


the arsonist's lullabye.

by porcelainsimplicity



Series: i have an obsession with fire and ice (aka all my john/bobby fics) [31]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: A few Dazzler References, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Attempted Suicide, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Like there are not words for how canon divergent this is, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not X-Men: Apocalypse Compliant, Not X-Men: Days of Future Past Compliant, Novel, Suicidal Thoughts, X-Men: First Class Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:25:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 67,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainsimplicity/pseuds/porcelainsimplicity
Summary: all you have is your fireand the place you need to reachdon't you ever tame your demonsbut always keep 'em on a leashor:  It's been five years since Alcatraz.  The world hasn't heard from Pyro since that night.  John Allerdyce thinks he's finally made a life for himself away from everything he used to be.  And then he comes home one night after work to find Kitty Pryde and Piotr Rasputin in his apartment and suddenly everything's changed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello awesome nerds. i...well, i have no idea where this came from, to be honest. i sat down to write a short one-shot and ended up with this. i'm happy that i did end up with this though, because i love getting into john's headspace, and well, there's a lot of that in here. 
> 
> um, this is so canon divergent that it almost hurts. x2 happened but jean didn't die; some of x3 happened but none of the phoenix stuff, which means charles and scott didn't die, and there's some other changes too. i basically needed some people to be alive in this but they weren't, so i just changed everything so that they were. 
> 
> also, this turned into a fix!john fic somewhere along the way and i like it a lot better this way so i just went with it. so while there is a lot of bobby/john, there's a lot of just fixing john in here too.
> 
> anyway, i hope you like it. like, really, really hope you like it. and if you do, please let me know.

.1

Saint John Allerdyce doesn't have a lot to live for. 

In fact, he doesn't even know why he's still alive. Bobby Drake should have killed him at Alcatraz and he knew if he had been in Bobby's position that he would have. Saint John Allerdyce didn't deserve to live, not after everything he'd done. But live he still did, and he had Bobby Drake to thank for it, and fuck, that was hard to live with.

He wasn't entirely sure when he went back to thinking of himself as just John either, when it was the part of his brain that called itself Pyro had given up the battle and realized it had lost the war. Maybe it was during the year and a half that he'd been on the run, trying to hide in plain sight, too scared of being arrested for what it was he'd done. Maybe it was when he'd finally settled down in one place, found an apartment, got a job, and tried to make himself into a respectable citizen for once.

Or maybe it was this exact moment, when he'd walked into his apartment after a long night shift and found Kitty Pryde sitting on his sofa and Piotr Rasputin staring out his window.

He knew that there should be some sort of survival instinct kicking in. His hand should be drifting to his pocket, pulling out his lighter, and sending a ball of fire in their direction. That should buy him enough time to run, to get out of there before they could catch up, to find some way out of this situation.

Instead, he just tossed his keys on the table, dropped his messenger bag by the door, and walked into his living room. “I'd ask how you got in but I already know that.”

“Hello, John,” Kitty said as Piotr came to sit next to her. “It's good to see you.”

“No, it's not,” John said, sitting down in the chair across from the sofa. “Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not,” Kitty said seriously. “It's good to see you. We've been worried.”

“Worried? Don't bullshit me, Kitty.” John paused for a moment. “And who is we?”

“Everyone,” Piotr said. “We're all worried.”

“You know I'm not going to believe that right?”

“Then we'll just have to convince you,” Kitty said, a smile on her face. 

“How did you find me?” John asked after a few moments. 

“We never lost you,” Piotr said simply.

“Never lost...what the fuck?”

“You have to know we couldn't let that happen,” Piotr said.

John sighed and started reaching for his pocket. “So, what, you're here to finally turn me in? I knew you weren't happy to see me.”

“John, don't,” Kitty said, shaking her head. “We're not here to do anything but let you know that you're welcome at home.”

John's hand paused and he looked up at them, seeing nothing but seriousness across their faces. “I'm sorry?”

“There was a lot of anger, I'm not going to lie,” Piotr said. “And there was a lot of talk about cornering you, getting the FBI involved.”

“But there was always one of us who insisted that you weren't who we thought you were,” Kitty added. “That you had been doing nothing more than following Magneto's orders, and well, wasn't that kind of what we did with the Professor.”

Kitty didn't have to say who that was. John already knew. “And so Drake convinced you all of that?”

“Bobby convinced us long enough for you to get your act together,” Kitty said seriously. “It's been five years since Alcatraz, John. The world hasn't heard a thing from Pyro since that night. They think he's dead.”

“He is,” came out of John's mouth before he could stop himself. “Fuck.”

Piotr smiled. “We know he is. You wouldn't have stayed here for three and a half years if he wasn't. But the time has come, John. It's time to come home.”

“I don't have a home,” John said. “Never have, never will.”

“Now who is the one talking bullshit?” Kitty asked.

John sighed and ran his hands over his face. “You know why that place isn't home, Kitty.”

“Actually, I don't and whatever reason it is that you think that is a pretty fucking ridiculous one.”

“It's really not. You wouldn't understand anyway.”

“Is this about Bobby?”

John's eyes shot up to meet hers and it took him all of zero point nine seconds to realize that Kitty knew. “How?”

“It was pretty obvious,” Kitty said simply. “And even if it wasn't, Jubilee confirmed it to me.”

“Fucking Jubes,” John muttered, hating the fact that he'd ever made that admission to her. “Fucking hell.”

“It's okay, John,” Piotr said. 

“No, it's really not.”

“He misses you,” Piotr tried again. “He's the one who has been volunteering for these assignments.”

John paused. “Assignments?”

“Just because we knew where you were doesn't mean that the Professor was ready to just let you live without being monitored,” Kitty said, sighing. “The apartment across the hall. The woman living there is a mutant who keeps track of you for us.”

“Alison?” John asked, alarmed. “She's a mutant? She fucking works for you?”

“Yes, she is, and no, she doesn't,” Piotr said. “But she knew who you were the second you moved in and noticed us watching you before she called the cops. We talked to her about what was going on and she's kept watch of you for us ever since.”

John's head was spinning. “What does Alison have to do with Drake?”

“Whenever someone comes to check up on you, they stay with Alison,” Kitty said. “We know your patterns because of her. We know when to come around, when to leave, so you won't see us. And Bobby volunteers for that assignment more times than not.”

“So why are you here instead of him?”

“Well, for one, he doesn't know that we're here,” Kitty said. “The Professor didn't tell him about this mission. Secondly, someone had to get into your apartment and I was the only one who could do that without making it look like someone had broken in, and if you had seen that, you would have turned and run and never come back.”

John wanted to protest but he knew she was right. “So what is this mission anyway? I can't truly believe that you are here because you want me to go back there.”

“Well, we are,” Piotr said. “We know that you don't like your life here, John.”

“Because of Alison.” He'd had far too many discussions with Alison about how fucking miserable he was over a couple of beers on her balcony. Fuck, that had been a mistake. He'd known it at the time; he knew it even more now.

“Yes.”

“And you think I would like my life better if I was there?” John tried to laugh but it came out hollow. “Come on, guys. Be realistic.”

“I think you're the one who needs to be realistic,” Kitty said seriously. “You know you miss it, you know that you would go back in a heartbeat, and you know exactly why that is.”

“He doesn't care about me.”

“Then you're really an idiot,” Kitty said. “He's never been the same since you left.”

“He's got Rogue.”

“Rogue is in New Orleans. She's living with a mutant down there and Bobby couldn't be happier for her. Rogue was never the one he wanted.”

John stared at them for a moment. “You're not going to leave until I say yes, are you?”

“Nope,” Piotr said, leaning back against the sofa and propping his feet up on the small table. “And I'm not letting you run on us either. There's a place for you, John. It may take awhile for you to find the right day-to-day details, but there's a place.”

“And the Professor says this is okay?”

“The Professor is the one who sent us.”

John sat there for a good five minutes before sighing heavily. “Fuck.”

Kitty just grinned. “It's going to be good to have you around again, John.”

“Don't fucking lie to me, Kitty. No, it's not.”

“We'll make you believe that then,” Kitty said. “Because it is going to be good to have you home.”

John just shook his head. “I'm never going to believe that.”

 

 

.2

The first words out of Storm's mouth had been, “Welcome home, Pyro.”

The first words out of John's mouth had been, “It's John.”

Storm had smiled. John had wondered why he'd said that.

Wasn't it better to keep them remembering exactly who he was? Wasn't it better to make them remember exactly what he'd done? Because if that happened, maybe this charade that was going on could stop and John could get some fucking answers. He didn't believe it was going to just be as easy as walking back into the mansion and everything was fine. He didn't want it to be. 

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it was much, much worse than that.

Storm showed him to a room in the corridor where all the professors' rooms used to be and he guessed still were. And he wondered for a moment if that was what he'd been brought back for, so he could be some sort of a professor. He wondered why on earth they'd thought that was something he'd remotely be interested it.

Then he remembered they'd been watching him, so they probably knew all about him teaching volunteer classes for mutant children at the local rec center, and they probably thought it was something he would be interested in. 

And, he realized, it probably was. Fuck. Nothing was going to plan.

The plan was to stay there long enough that they'd think he tried and then escape in the middle of the night and start over somewhere new. Maybe they'd find him again, maybe they wouldn't. But he was absolutely not staying in the one place he'd never felt at home.

Except it was the only place he'd ever felt at home and he knew it.

John stayed alone in his room for three hours after he was shown to it, just sitting on the bed and staring into the mirror above the dresser. It had taken him two minutes to determine that he didn't know who the man in the reflection was. He wasn't Pyro anymore and he definitely didn't know how to be John, even though he'd been trying to be John for five years. He didn't know who this person was and he wasn't sure he ever would again.

He didn't know what he was feeling. He hated it.

Maybe it was the fact that everything had been a whirlwind since he'd come back to the apartment a week ago to find Kitty and Piotr there. Maybe it was a byproduct of finding out that Alison had lied to him about everything, including being a mutant, for three and a half years. And maybe it was just being greeted like an old friend by people who definitely shouldn't have done so. Maybe it was all of that, but maybe it was just his subconscious telling him that he was now in a place where he could find out exactly who that person in the mirror was. 

Maybe it was the real John who wanted him to.

He was broken of his thoughts by a knock at the door and he swallowed hard before calling out for whoever it was to come in. The door opened a moment later and in walked a piece of his past that he thought he'd never see again, a piece of his past that he always wanted to forget, a piece of his past that he knew he never would.

Bobby Drake.

He stood up as Bobby closed the door, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans when Bobby walked over to him. His gaze dropped down to the floor to keep from staring into the ice blue eyes that he still loved, that he'd always loved, that he would always love. 

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it definitely wasn't the man in front of him. 

“Hi, Pyro,” were the words that came out of Bobby's mouth and John felt a pain in his heart that he didn't think he was capable of experiencing anymore.

“John,” he croaked out, refusing to meet Bobby's gaze. “My name is John.”

“I know,” Bobby said. “I just had to be sure.”

John looked up at that, spending a moment drowning in those eyes before shaking himself out of his stupor. Bobby looked absolutely incredible, better than he even remembered, and he wasn't sure how that was possible. He was instantly reminded of how Bobby had been in his every thought, had been the only person he'd ever wanted to be around, had been the reason that he'd left in the first place. He was never interested in watching Bobby get cozy with Rogue. 

He would never admit to how much that had hurt.

Bobby grinned at him, that typical Bobby Drake grin that still made him weak in the knees, and before John knew it, he was wrapped up in Bobby's arms. “God, Johnny, it's good to see you.”

Johnny. He hadn't been called Johnny in so long.

He'd only ever let Bobby get away with it.

It took him a moment, but then his arms slid around Bobby's waist and Bobby squeezed a little tighter, and John realized that his earlier reflection that the mansion was the only place he'd ever felt at home was wrong. This, wrapped up in Bobby Drake's arms, was the only place he'd ever felt at home.

Bobby let go of him far too soon for John's liking, giving him another one of those grins. “We're all about to have dinner,” he said. “Come join us?”

John shook his head immediately. “I'm not ready for that.”

“Okay then,” Bobby said, nodding. “I'll just go get us some food and I'll be right back.”

“You don't have to do that,” John found himself saying. “Go do what you normally do.”

Bobby just gave him a look that told John to shut up. “I want to talk to you, Johnny, so I'll go get some food and be right back.”

Bobby walked out of the room after that and John collapsed back onto the bed. He glanced around at more than just the mirror this time, realized that there was a table and chairs in there, and hauled himself off the bed and over to the table. It was probably better to eat with Bobby at the table than on the bed.

It was probably better for his sanity to be anywhere with Bobby but a bed.

Bobby returned with two trays exactly seven and a half minutes later. John had a moment where he wondered why he thought it had been exactly seven and a half minutes before realizing he was just trying to distract himself from the fact that Bobby was sliding a tray in front of him and sitting down across from him. He took a deep breath before looking down at his tray, noticing immediately that he was staring at his favorite meal from the mansion's cafeteria.

Bobby Drake still remembered what John liked to eat.

That's when he started to cry.

Saint John Allerdyce did not cry. But there he was, hands covering his face, crying harder than he'd probably cried in his life. He wasn't even entirely sure why he was doing it.

Then he felt a cool hand along the back of his neck, felt his chair being turned away from the table, and he went willingly back into the arms of the only man he'd ever loved. The only man he was ever going to love. 

He'd decided that a long time ago on a cold winter's night as he walked back to his apartment following a very unsatisfying one night stand. Bobby Drake had ruined him for anyone else, even if he didn't know it. He'd never come close to telling Bobby how he felt and, when Rogue came along, he'd decided he never would. Rogue had made him happy and all John really wanted was for Bobby to be happy. 

Bobby held him close and John buried his head in Bobby's neck, just letting the tears fall. It was going to be difficult to be around him again, difficult to even come close to the friendship they'd had before, difficult to keep himself from falling in love all over again. But he was going to do it because that was just the way it had to be.

He had faced a lot of rejection in his life. He never wanted to face rejection from Bobby Drake.

Which was why the fact that he was crying in Bobby's arms was all the more remarkable to him. If anyone should hate him more than anything, it was Bobby. Bobby had been witness to some of the worst moments of his life and he knew from the brief conversations they'd had – if you could even call words exchanged on a battlefield conversations – that Bobby was furious with him for leaving. 

Bobby had thought they'd been friends. John had always wanted them to be more.

“Shh, Johnny, it's okay,” Bobby said, his voice breaking through the haze that surrounded John. “It's all going to be okay now.”

“No, it's not,” John got out. “It's not.”

“But it will be.”

Bobby sounded so sure of that fact that it just made John cry harder. He wanted to shove Bobby away, scream at him about how he had no idea what John had seen and done, that no matter how much people wanted to think that it wasn't really him that it really was. He'd done that. He'd done all of it.

He waited for the part of him that called itself called Pyro to kick in. To tell him to reach for his lighter and set the room on fire and run. He waited and waited and waited. But John knew the part of him called Pyro really was gone. And he knew Bobby knew that too.

“Johnny, it's okay,” Bobby said again. “I promise you, it's all okay.”

John brought his emotions back under control, pulling back to see Bobby staring at him with concern on his face. He wanted to launch himself forward and kiss Bobby harder than he'd ever kissed anyone before. Instead, he turned his chair back towards the table and picked up a fork. 

“Thank you,” John said softly a moment later.

“You know I'll always let you cry, Johnny,” Bobby said, standing up and walking back to his chair. 

That brought up more memories that John didn't want to think about. 

They ate in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

.3

Jubilee waltzed into John's room one afternoon about two weeks after he'd returned to the mansion, shocking the hell out of him. He'd been told by Kitty that Jubilee didn't live there anymore, that she had a job in the city and that she was happy. He'd been glad to hear that, because if there was anyone at the mansion that John had appreciated just as much as he had Bobby Drake, it was Jubilation Lee.

He stood up to give her a hug, was about to say hello, when Jubilee came up to him and slapped him hard across the face.

“John Allerdyce, I ought to kill you.”

John reached up to rub at his face, getting a good look at the fire in Jubilee's eyes. Fuck. 

“Do you even have a fucking clue how hard it hit me when I got back to the mansion and you were gone?” Jubilee exclaimed. “I'd just been through this extraordinarily traumatic experience and suddenly my best friend in the entire world has up and left us all to go follow fucking Magneto of all people! I needed you, asshole. I needed you and you weren't there for me.”

John knew that he deserved that. He probably deserved that from her more than he deserved it from anyone else. 

“You promised me that I would always be able to count on you, Pyro. Always. And then you fucked me over.”

“John,” he said without thinking. “My name is John.”

Jubilee stared at him for a moment. “They told me you were doing that. I think that's bullshit, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“You can abandon being the man who followed Magneto around like a fucking puppy. But you cannot abandon your name, Pyro. That's your name.”

“No,” he said. “My name is John.”

“If you want to get fucking technical about it, your name is Saint,” Jubilee said, shaking her head. “You're always going to be Pyro whether you want to admit that to yourself or not. Just like how Storm is Storm and Kitty is Shadowcat and Bobby is Iceman and on and on and on. Some of us also choose to walk around being known by our mutant names because they're better than our real ones. Do you not remember that conversation that we had the night I told you my real name was Jubilation? Because if you tell me you don't then I might kick you in the balls.”

John stood there for a moment before letting out a small laugh. “I missed you, Jubes. So, so much.”

“Well, you could have saved yourself all that trouble and just fucking stayed,” Jubilee said in a huff, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I wasn't kidding, by the way. I'm fucking furious still.”

John sat down next to her and sighed. “I know you are. And I deserve it.”

“Damn fucking right you do,” Jubilee said, leaning over and putting her head on his shoulder. “You fucking suck.”

“I do,” John said. “I fucking suck and I always have. I still don't know what about me it was that you saw and latched onto.”

“You were lonely,” Jubilee said. “You were barely talking to anyone, even Bobby. No one else was even making an attempt to get to know you because they were all scared since you couldn't control your powers, which was such fucking bullshit because none of us could when we first showed up here, and I just decided you and I were going to be friends. I believe you told me to fuck off the first time I said that too.”

“I did,” John said. “Right in front of Summers. Spent a week in detention for that.”

“Yeah, I remember. I got myself detention from Jean right after that so you wouldn't be alone.”

John paused. “You what?”

“Look, it wasn't a secret, okay? Everyone was just waiting for the night when you ran. I just thought that maybe if you had some friends here then you wouldn't. And then you fucking did anyway.”

John sucked in a deep breath. “I didn't do it because of you.”

“I know that, asshole. You did it because of Bobby.”

“No, I didn't,” John said automatically.

“Yes, you did,” Jubilee said in the tone of voice that she always used when John was being an idiot about Bobby. “You hated seeing them together and I'd known that you wanted far away from that situation for months. I just never thought you'd do it.”

“I did not leave because of Bobby,” John said through gritted teeth.

“What do you want me to fucking believe? That you went because you believed that bullshit that Magneto always spouted off with? I know you, Saint John Allerdyce. I know you better than fucking anyone. You didn't believe a word of it.”

John sat there for a moment before groaning. “I don't want to tell anyone that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I regretted the fact that I left the fucking moment that I left but I'd made my bed so I had to lie in it. And then every time I came face to face with the situation I'd presented myself with, I just did what I had to do to keep myself from being on the streets.” John paused to try to keep some control of his emotions. “I killed people, Jubes. I fucking killed people.”

“I know you did,” Jubilee said, her voice soft. “Every time I heard your name on the news associated with something like that just made me realize how deep you'd gotten yourself. I'm not surprised you didn't see that there was still a surface you could swim to.”

“I hate myself,” John whispered, tears coming to his eyes. “I fucking hate myself for what I've done. And then Kitty and Piotr convinced me to come back here and everyone has just been so nice and fuck. I want to scream at them to just treat me like the fucking murderer that I am.”

“You're not a murderer, John.”

“Except for the fact that I am.”

Jubilee reached out and tangled her hand with his. “You've got to move past this.”

“I'll never be able to move past that,” John said seriously. “Ever. You don't understand.”

“No, I do,” Jubilee said. “And you fucking know I do.”

“You accidentally killing someone when your powers manifested does not mean that you understand what it's like to be me.”

“No, but it means I understand what it's like to live with that on your conscience,” Jubilee said. “You can't dwell on it or it will consume you.”

“Then I guess the past five years have been pretty pointless then.”

Jubilee lifted her head and looked at him. “You should talk to Bobby about it.”

“I'm trying to do as little talking to Bobby as I can.”

“You really are a fucking idiot, you know that?” Jubilee said, shaking her head. “That boy missed you more than I did and that's saying something.”

“That's bullshit.”

“No, it's not,” Jubilee said firmly. “I was here. I saw it. He tell you what happened with Rogue yet?”

“No, and I don't fucking care to know.”

“Too bad 'cause I'm telling you,” Jubilee said, squeezing his fingers. “After you left, he tried to carry on like everything was fine, but it was obvious to all of us that it was not. Rogue tried to get through to him, we all did, but no one could. Kitty finally got him to start laughing again and then Rogue went and got all jealous of Kitty because it wasn't her who had. She decided to get the cure because she thought that Bobby wanted to be with someone he could actually touch – and I know that to be a fact because she fucking told me so – and left. 

“Then she fucking came back, all cured and shit, and expected everything to go back to the way it was. And Bobby tried, don't get me wrong. We all did but it's kind of hard to find a place to fit in when you're not one of us anymore. So she took off again about two months later. Left in the middle of the night, didn't even say goodbye. Then the fucking cure wore off and she came back again because she didn't know where else to go.

“Then this guy named Remy LeBeau came here for awhile. From New Orleans, cool mutation, thick Cajun accent. She took one look at him and everything changed. She went from spending every moment with us to spending all of her time with him. He didn't stick around here for very long, and when he asked her to go to New Orleans with him, she did. So she fucking left again. Bobby was glad to be rid of her, to be honest. She just fucked with him over and over and over. Fucked with us all.”

John sat there for awhile, the words Jubilee had just said swirling around in his mind. “Rogue did that? The same Rogue I remember?”

“Yup,” Jubilee said, squeezing John's hand again. “And you know what? You leaving had a much bigger effect on Bobby than she did any one of those times when she left.”

John swallowed hard. “It's been difficult being around him again.”

“I imagine so,” Jubilee said. “But it's only difficult because you won't tell him.”

“Bobby Drake is never going to love me the way I want him to,” John said firmly. “And so it's better to suffer in silence.”

“And I'm telling you that he already does love you that way. He's just never been presented with the opportunity to realize it.”

“And he never will because I'm not getting fucking rejected,” John said. “I can handle it from everyone else but from him? That would kill me, Jubes.”

“I know,” Jubilee said. “And I've always told you that you were a fucking moron for thinking that, because if there's one thing Bobby has never wanted to do, it's hurt you.”

“I, um, I've been letting myself cry when he's in here,” John said quietly. “And he hasn't rejected that yet.”

“He's never going to reject you, John. And that's good. That's really good.”

“I disagree with that. I've been making myself look like a fool in front of him for far too long.”

“Oh, like that's something he's never seen before,” Jubilee said, laughing. “We've all seen you do some pretty goddamn monumentally stupid shit, John. And that was before you left.”

John sat there for a moment before turning to look at her. “I really am sorry, Jubilee. You're right, I abandoned you when you needed me most and I had promised I'd never do that. That's another thing I've dwelled upon for the last five years. How much I let all of you down, but especially you.”

Jubilee sighed. “I wanted to track you down and kill you.”

“I don't blame you for that.”

“But then fucking Alcatraz happened and you went on the run instead of trying to organize the Brotherhood. We all kept waiting for Pyro to pop up again, for some firebomb to happen to some hospital or some shit, but you never did. You just went from place to place to place until you finally stopped. And it was when you finally stopped running that people around here started to listen to what Bobby was saying about you. Even me.”

“Did you...” John started. “Kitty, she told me about the arrangement with Alison, about your assignments. Did you...”

“Did I ever take one of those assignments?” Jubilee asked, continuing when John nodded. “No, I didn't. I decided to leave here and make something of myself instead of staying and being a member of the X-Men. And I've fucking regretted that decision since the moment I made it. I just didn't feel like I could come back home. Then I heard that you had and I decided it was time for me to do the same.”

John blinked. “What?”

“I'm not going back to the city. You're not getting rid of me that easy.”

“But your job...”

“I can do the same damn thing I was doing right here,” Jubilee said, smiling at him. “Besides, someone has to be around to talk you off the ledge when it comes to Bobby.”

John took one look at her before groaning. “You're going to make me actually tell him, aren't you?”

“You better fucking believe I am.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don't.”

Jubilee wrapped him up in an embrace then and John buried his face in the curve of her neck. She just held him without saying a word and John knew in that instant that it was because she understood how hard it was to be back there. She was struggling with that herself.

She wasn't coming back to the mansion as a mass murderer though. She was being welcomed with open arms by people she'd never abandoned, people she'd never betrayed. 

Jubilee should be welcomed back as a friend.

Saint John Allerdyce most certainly should not.

And yet, that was pretty much what was happening. Storm was always smiling at him when she came to talk and Piotr would come play poker like they'd used to. Kitty was always bringing him sweets from that store in Westchester that she knew he'd always loved and Hank always dropped off a book or two to read. Scott and Jean would bring him movies to watch and the Professor always stopped by at least twice a day to check on how he was doing.

Bobby just seemed relieved he was there. John had no idea why.

John pulled back and gave Jubilee a shaky smile. “I love you, Jubes.”

“I love you too, you fucking idiot,” Jubilee said, prompting John to laugh. “Now, do you want some of the pertinent gossip that you missed out on because you left?”

“Does any of that matter anymore?”

“Hey, I've been waiting years to be able to tell you some of this stuff! You're just going to have to listen.”

“Whatever you want, Jubes.”

 

 

.4

“Are you ever going to leave this room?”

It took Bobby one month, two weeks, and five days to ask John that question. John knew it was coming, had prepared for it, and yet when it did, he had no idea how to answer it.

“Didn't know I was welcome to,” was what finally came out of his mouth, and all that served to do was make Bobby exasperated.

“John, we welcomed you home, not imprisoned you,” Bobby said, shaking his head as he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. “You are allowed to leave the room.”

“And do what?” John asked, shaking his head. “There are people in this house who should be afraid of me and what I've done. And you should be one of them. I was going to kill you.”

Bobby sighed heavily before shifting around until he was laying next to John on the bed, making John's eyes widen. “Bobby, what are you doing?”

“If you're not going to leave this room then neither am I,” Bobby said, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. “So you're just going to have to deal with a roommate.”

“Don't be so fucking ridiculous, Bobby.”

“Don't be so fucking depressed, Johnny.”

It was at that moment that John realized that Bobby knew what was really going on and he sighed heavily. “Fuck.”

“I don't know why you thought you could keep this from me, you know,” Bobby said. “It's not like I don't know you like the back of my hand or anything.”

“You don't.”

“You might have run off and been Pyro for awhile, but you're still Johnny and you haven't changed a bit. I've always known Johnny and I always will know Johnny.”

John reached up and ran his hands over his face. “I can't do what the Professor wants me to do.”

“That's not what we're talking about but that's also fucking ridiculous.”

“I cannot be responsible for children's education.”

“And yet that's exactly what you were doing at the rec center,” Bobby said. 

“In an extremely informal capacity,” John said. “Besides, that was different than this. I was helping them learn to control their powers. This...this is something different.”

“You were helping them learn to control their powers?”

John looked over at Bobby in surprise. “You didn't know that?”

“No,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “We knew you were teaching there but we didn't know what. It's not like we could have walked into the rec center and specifically found out what you and only you were teaching. It would have set off too many red flags.”

“I'm surprised the Professor didn't listen in one day.”

“He only did that when absolutely necessary,” Bobby said.

“You could have asked Alison.”

“She said you were teaching Spanish classes, which I knew was total bullshit because Spanish was your worst subject. And you know damn well that you never told her you were a mutant so there was no way you would have told her the truth.”

John sighed. “I had to.”

“I know,” Bobby said softly. “And so does she.”

“She's really a mutant?” John asked. “I thought she was a singer that called herself Dazzler.”

“She is,” Bobby said. “All those light effects when she sings? That's her.”

“I never went to see her sing.”

“That's bullshit,” Bobby said. “You went one of the nights that I was there.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because I was there that night too,” Bobby said, making John's jaw drop. 

“What?”

Bobby sighed. “Please don't tell anyone that. I wasn't supposed to leave her apartment.”

“You were there?”

“She said you liked to go watch her sing because you got to have a few drinks and find someone to go home with.”

And that's when John realized what Bobby must have seen that night. “Fuck.”

“It's okay, Johnny. It really is.”

“No, it's not.”

“I knew it, you know, back when we were teenagers,” Bobby said softly. “Everyone was convinced you were in love with Jubes but I always knew she didn't have the right parts for you.”

John swallowed hard. If Bobby had been able to figure that out when they were teenagers, what else had he been able to figure out? “Bobby, I...”

“Johnny, it's fine,” Bobby said, looking over at him. “I mean, I always wondered why you didn't try to get yourself a boyfriend. It's not like you were the only gay kid around. Kind of wondered why you didn't get yourself one once you settled down either. Might have made you happier.”

John wanted to answer that there was only one man who would ever be able to make him happy and he was currently laying on the bed with him. Instead, he inwardly sighed with relief that Bobby hadn't figured out the rest of his secret and ran his hands over his face. “Maybe I just wanted sex.”

“From the guy at the club? Yes. From every guy ever? I don't believe that for a second.” Bobby just smiled. “Saint John Allerdyce, the man who refuses to admit that he needs love. Like I said, you haven't changed a bit.”

“Yes, I have,” John said, feeling his throat tighten. “You know what I've done, Bobby. The whole fucking world knows what I've done.”

“They know what Pyro did,” Bobby said. “No one but us knows a thing about John Allerdyce.”

“Now that's just bullshit.”

Bobby sighed again. “Raven and Kitty took care of it.”

“Who the fuck is Raven? And took care of what?”

“Mystique,” Bobby said. “Her real name is Raven.”

John paused. “How do you know that? And what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The government got most of their information about the Brotherhood from her after she was hit with the cure. She told them almost everything she knew. She left out one very important thing. Your name.”

Mystique had done what? “What the fuck?”

“Raven works with us every once and awhile now that her powers are back, says she refuses to deal with Magneto anymore,” Bobby said seriously. “Apparently there's history with her and the Professor, but she won't say anything more than that and the Professor and everyone else who knows refuses to talk about it.”

“There's what?” John shook his head. “No, that's not important. The important part here is that you're telling me no one knows my name?”

“No one knows your name,” Bobby confirmed. “Raven said she'd done that and then Kitty took care of the rest. Any piece of paper or government file that had the name John Allerdyce on it was destroyed. And there wasn't much of it to begin with.”

John swallowed hard as tears sprang to his eyes. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No,” Bobby said softly, turning onto his side so he could see John better. “No one was sure if you'd ever come back. There were discussions for awhile and then Kitty just went with Raven and did it. We wanted you to be able to have a life instead of running again.”

John felt like he couldn't breathe when Bobby reached over and tangled their fingers together. “There's no need to run anymore, Johnny. You're home.”

John looked down at where their hands were for a moment before nodding. “I won't run. I swear.”

“Good,” Bobby said. “Now tell me you'll come have dinner with the rest of us tonight.”

John sighed. “Not tonight.”

“Bad things happen when you isolate yourself, Johnny. And you're isolating yourself.”

The tone of Bobby's voice let John know that Bobby remembered a particular conversation about what he was planning to do when the Professor showed up that fateful night when he was eleven. “I'm not going to do that.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Why?”

“Kitty found five bottles of sleeping pills in your apartment, John. Five.”

John sucked in a shuddering breath. “I wasn't...maybe at one point but not any time recently.”

“And I want to make sure that point never happens again,” Bobby said softly. “I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again, Johnny.”

There was something in Bobby's voice, something in Bobby's eyes, that made John want to pull him close and kiss him hard and never let go. 

“I won't,” John said firmly, refusing to let himself go down that train of thought. “I promise.”

Saint John Allerdyce didn't make promises often. But when he did, he meant them more than anything else he'd ever said in his life. 

And Bobby Drake knew that.

Which was probably why one of those trademark grins crossed Bobby's face and his fingers tightened their grip on John's. There couldn't possibly be any other reason.

Bobby sat up and looked at the clock. “The kids should be in the cafeteria now.”

“So?”

“So, if you'd like to come with me, we can probably get you into the private kitchen before any of them see you. Otherwise, I'll have Kitty bring us some dinner.”

“You can leave the room, Bobby.”

“I told you, I'm not leaving this room until you do.”

John let his eyes close and took a deep breath. And then another. And then another. There was no fucking way he could handle Bobby being in his room all the time. It was bad enough Bobby was there as often as he was. He was just going to have to suck it up and leave the room, which was almost the last thing in the fucking world that he wanted to do.

Almost. Returning to the Brotherhood was the last thing in the fucking world that he wanted to do.

When he opened his eyes, Bobby was sitting there looking at him with such genuine emotion in his eyes that John was one hundred gazillion percent sure that he was making it all up because there was no way that Bobby Drake could ever look at him like that.

“Okay. Let's go have dinner.”


	3. Chapter 3

.5

“So why Austin?”

John was standing on the balcony with Jubilee, watching as Bobby put some of the children through powers instructions on the lawn below them. “Is this a fucking interrogation? I thought you brought me out here for some sun and to enjoy the view.”

“No,” Jubilee said seriously. “It's a question. If I wanted to interrogate you, I would.”

John reached for his sunglasses, sliding them down over his eyes. “It's a nice place.”

“I'm sure it is but that's a bullshit answer and you know it.”

John just shook his head. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

John leaned up against the railing, sighing. “The University of Texas is there, so it's a college town. That meant a lot of people my age. Local folks would just think I was a student. There's a ton of businesses that are used to people quitting with no notice so if I had to leave quickly it wouldn't have drawn too much attention. It was far, far away from San Francisco or any other place I'd ever been. Weather's not bad. Basically, I could blend in there.”

“What did you do for a living?”

“You already know.”

“I would like to hear these things from you.”

“Washed dishes in restaurants,” John said. “Not exactly the most glamorous thing, I know.”

“Did you take any classes?” Jubilee asked, leaning up next to him.

“Again, I think you already know the answer to that.”

Jubilee just rolled her eyes. “Come on, John. At least engage me in conversation.”

“Is that not what we're doing?”

“You're being a jackass,” Jubilee said, nudging him with her shoulder. “You've got to start talking to people.”

“I talked to Bobby three days ago.”

“One conversation does not make things better and you know that.” Jubilee paused. “Kitty told me about the pills.”

John swore under his breath. “Of course she did.”

“You promised me you'd never do that.”

“And I didn't,” John said. “Move on.”

“No,” Jubilee said firmly. “You were going to kill yourself, John. I think that requires a conversation.”

“Then make me an appointment with a fucking therapist.”

“You're in luck then,” Jubilee said, her smile brightening. “Because I have an hour free right now.”

John looked over at her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“That what I did in the city. I was a therapist.”

John stared at her for a moment before turning his attention back to where Bobby was watching some girl float off the ground. “You were a therapist?”

“Well, am a therapist,” Jubilee said. “That's what the Professor has hired me to do here. Be a therapist for the kids to talk to. There's too many kids around here now for him to do it all.”

“I am not one of those kids.”

“No, you're not,” Jubilee said firmly. “You're just a seriously depressed, possibly suicidal man who seems to think that continually torturing himself over past mistakes is somehow going to make everything better. You can't understand that you've gotten yourself in a good situation here and you're refusing to take advantage of it, which goes back to the seriously depressed part. This is only the second time I've seen you outside of your room since I got back here, and the other was with Bobby at dinner three days ago, and I've been back here for a month. We're all on eggshells around you because we don't know what's going to set you off, which is not unlike how we were when you first showed up to the mansion, which is when you were first suicidal. If anything, you need an hour a week with me more than those kids do.”

“Well, tell me what you really think, why don't you?”

Jubilee reached up and smacked him on the back of the head. “I am seriously worried about you, asshole. We all are.”

“Let's be real, Jubes. None of you would even notice if I was gone.”

Jubilee smacked him again. “You're a fucking moron, you know that?”

John dropped his head down before turning to look at her. “I don't know how to live with myself after everything I've done,” he said quietly. 

“Which is why you need to talk to someone about it,” Jubilee said, reaching up to run her fingers through John's long hair. “You also need a shave and a haircut.”

“No therapy, no shave, no haircut,” John said seriously, turning his attention back to the lawn. “Talking to someone isn't going to help and the shave and haircut is going to make people recognize me.”

“John.”

“How long do you think it is before the students figure out who I am?” John asked suddenly. “I mean, I know some of the older ones do because they were here when I was a student, but I'm talking about the younger ones, the ones whose parents sent them here willingly. The ones who can write home and tell Mommy and Daddy all about how they're living with the world's most wanted arsonist.”

“Is that why you don't want to be around the children?” Jubilee asked after a moment. “Because you think one of them is going to sell you out?”

“Why wouldn't they? I would.”

Jubilee sighed and put her head on John's shoulder. “Johnny boy, you've got a lot of issues we can work through.”

“Don't call me that,” John said seriously. “And I don't need to work through anything.”

“You let Bobby get away with calling you that all the time,” Jubilee pointed out. “And yes, you really do. I don't see how you expect to be a productive member of society if you don't work through this shit.”

“I don't expect to be a productive member of society.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn't have been taking classes if you didn't want to be one.”

“So you do know.”

“Yes, I fucking know,” Jubilee exclaimed. “I know more about what you've spent the past five years doing than you probably do! Excuse me for wanting to hear it from you instead of reading it in a report though.”

“Jubilee.”

Jubilee turned to see Scott standing on the other side of the balcony. “I'll be right back. Don't you dare go anywhere.”

“I won't move a muscle,” John said, turning his concentration to where Bobby was congratulating a boy who was red for doing something that he must have missed. 

He should have known there was an ulterior motive to Jubilee's invitation to watch Bobby's class from the balcony. He should have known that she'd try to get under his skin, just like she'd always tried to get under his skin when they were kids. She'd been insistent when they were teenagers that John just needed to talk about shit to feel better. No wonder she'd ended up a therapist.

But she was probably right. Saint John Allerdyce probably did need some therapy.

It was a few minutes before Jubilee came back to him and one glance over at her told John everything was not okay. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That's bullshit. What is it?”

Jubilee sighed heavily. “We got another report from Alison.”

“What the fuck are you still getting reports from Alison for? I'm here.”

“We just wanted her to let us know if anything happened,” Jubilee said quietly. 

John looked over at her in alarm. “What happened?”

“She reported your former apartment had been broken into by some guys and she overheard them talking about the Brotherhood and Pyro,” Jubilee said. “So she thought it best to warn us.”

John's breath caught in his throat. He'd been so careful, had planned everything out so well. No friends, not a lot of colleagues. A job where he didn't have to interact with the public. Multiple aliases. His lease was in one, his utilities in another, his phone in another. Hell, even his state issued ID card had a different name than anything else did. 

How the fuck had they found him?

Jubilee was watching him with concerned eyes when John finally sucked in a deep breath, dropping his head down to the railing and letting his eyes close. “Tell me Alison is alright.”

“Alison is fine,” Jubilee said, threading her fingers into the back of John's hair. “They didn't see her.”

“Good,” John murmured. “I liked her.”

“John,” Jubilee started. “It's okay.”

“It's not fucking okay, Jubes.”

“No one was hurt and they don't know where you are now,” Jubilee pointed out. “They can't get to you.”

“They knew where I was.”

“Apparently so.”

“So why do you think they won't know that I'm here?”

Jubilee's hand stilled. “I can't promise you that they don't. But I can promise you there will be one fucking hell of a fight if they try to get you.”

“I don't want anyone fighting on my behalf.”

“Well it's a good thing we wouldn't be fighting on your behalf then, isn't it?” Jubilee said. “We don't want you back with the Brotherhood any more than you want to be.”

“Because you're afraid Pyro will come back.”

“Because I'm afraid you'll finally completely self-distruct,” Jubilee said firmly. “I know you only did what you did because you thought it was the only way to survive. Now you don't even want to do that.”

“I'm not suicidal,” John got out through gritted teeth. “I'm not going to kill myself.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

John raised his head and looked at her. “I promised you, Jubes. I promised you and I promised the Professor and I promised Bobby. You know how fucking seriously I take promises.”

“Then why the fucking pills?”

John felt all the fight leave his body. “Fuck. I'm allowed to think about it even if I'll never do it. I was never going to do it.”

“You'll never do it?”

“Nope,” John said, shaking his head. “I know what I deserve. Death is just the easy way of escaping all that. No, I need to live with this. Need to feel it. A reminder of what it is I did and of who I never want to be again.”

Jubilee leaned down and pressed a kiss to John's head. “You don't know what you deserve, Johnny boy.”

“Don't fucking call me that.”

“Then promise me you and I will have an hour a week to talk. And I mean really talk, John. Not bullshit like this.”

“Will it get you to drop this fucking subject?”

“Yes.”

“Then fine.”

Jubilee smiled as John turned his attention back to Bobby. “He'll be proud of you for that.”

“Sure he will.”

Jubilee smacked him in the back of the head again. “Learn to appreciate what you've got around you, okay? That's your first homework assignment.”

“Homework assignment?”

“Therapy doesn't just exist an hour a week. You have homework assignments.”

John sighed heavily. “I'm going to fucking hate this, aren't I?”

“Probably,” Jubilee said. “But it'll be worth it.”

“We'll see about that.”

 

 

.6

The children were all in the cafeteria, most of the adults had gone down to the Danger Room for a session, and the only people left in the private kitchen were Kitty, Scott, and John. Scott was talking about one of the movies he had given John to watch, Kitty was grading papers she needed to return to her students the next day, and John was wondering why everyone continued to act so normal around him.

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it wasn't to be treated like just another member of the family.

Then Kitty suddenly asked, “Where's your lighter?” 

“His lighter?” Scott asked. “Kitty, what would he need his lighter for at the moment?”

“John always used to play with his lighter. Constantly,” Kitty said. “Don't you remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Scott said. “I had to take it from him in class more than once.”

“Exactly,” Kitty said. “He always had it in his hands, always flipping it open and shut, open and shut. So where is it?”

John sighed heavily and buried his head in his hands. “Kitty, why'd you have to ask me that?”

Kitty and Scott took one look at each other before Kitty was getting up and crouching down next to John and running a hand over the back of his head. “Johnny, it's okay.”

“Don't fucking call me that,” John snapped. 

“Fine, I won't. But it's still okay.”

“No, it's not,” John said, refusing to look up. “It's really, really not.”

“Do we need to find you one?” Scott asked, concerned. “Because I know you had them stashed all over the mansion.”

“No,” John said firmly.

“Did something happen to it?” Kitty asked softly. “Because we can always get you another one. Or does it maybe just need some lighter fluid?”

“I don't know if it needs any fucking fluid, Kitty! I haven't used it since fucking Alcatraz!” John yelled, shoving his chair back and stalking out of the room. 

The fastest way back to his room would put him in the path of the children he could hear making their way out of the cafeteria and so John headed in the other direction, wandering hallways that he hadn't been down since he was sixteen. Before he even realized what he was doing, he was sitting on the edge of the indoor swimming pool, his feet dangling into the water.

He hadn't even bothered to take his shoes off.

He'd known that someone would notice eventually. He thought maybe it would be when Jean saw he hadn't lit any of the candles she'd brought to his room. Or when he told Storm he unequivocally was not going down to the Danger Room for a session. Or when Piotr asked him if he wanted to go play around in the woods behind the house like they used to. And on and on and on. There had probably been sixteen thousand things to make them notice and yet it had taken someone two months, three weeks, and six days to do so.

John knew he was going to have to give them some sort of an explanation. But he wasn't sure how to say it in any sort of capacity that any of them would be able to understand. 

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it wasn't going to be all those people trying to convince him that it was okay to use his powers again.

This particular spot on the pool deck was perfect because someone walking by and glancing in couldn't see him and that generally meant that he was left in peace by whoever was searching for him. Not even Jubilee knew this was his hideout. Therefore, he sat there with his head down for probably half an hour before someone came and sat down next to him. And he knew exactly who it was when the water around his feet started to get really cold.

Bobby had always known that this was John's hideout. 

Bobby didn't say anything and for that John was thankful. Silences between them weren't awkward, no matter how much John thought they should be. The last time he'd been face to face with Bobby Drake before he'd returned to the mansion had been when John was extremely willing to kill him to survive. The silence between them should be awkward as fuck.

But he also knew that at some point in time he was going to have to tell Bobby that, despite everything he said that night, he didn't think he would have been able to go through with the act of killing him. And he knew that when he did that Bobby would ask him why.

John wasn't going to admit that it was because he loved him. So, until he had a better answer that he knew Bobby wouldn't see right through, that conversation would just have to wait. 

“I can't,” John finally said several minutes later. “I can't use them anymore.”

Bobby reached out after a moment and tangled his fingers together with John's. “We didn't know anything about you getting hit with the cure. But it will wear off, Johnny. It's obviously just taking longer than with some others.”

“I didn't,” John murmured. “I just can't use them anymore.”

“Why?” Bobby asked, confusion in his voice. “I mean, if you're still capable...”

“It started out as self-preservation. Can't be the kid who can light stuff on fire because that might make someone put two and two together, you know?” John said hoarsely. “Then it became paranoia. The second anyone knew I could do that, they'd start looking at me closer, start picturing me with shorter hair, no beard, start realizing how much I look like the guy on the news. So I just stopped using them.”

“Oh, Johnny.” Bobby squeezed John's fingers. “You don't have to do that anymore, you know. You're safe here.”

“Am I though?” John asked, looking up at Bobby.

“Of course you are!” Bobby exclaimed. “Why would you think you're not?”

“I've been here for almost three months, Bobby, and I still don't know why I'm here. Why the fuck would any of you want me back in your lives, back at this place? You should have just realized that I wasn't going to kill anyone anymore and let me live in peace.”

Bobby sighed heavily and let go of John's hand, wrapping an arm around his shoulders instead. “You're here because we want you in our lives. You're here because we want you here.”

“Why? No one has been able to tell me fucking why. I don't have a place in the world, Bobby. I deserve my isolation, I deserve barely making ends meet. I certainly don't deserve all this.”

“Johnny, you deserve the world.”

“No, I don't. I don't deserve it, Bobby. I don't deserve to be treated the way you all treat me. I don't deserve to live in a place like this, a place that has always been home to all of you and was never home to me.”

“Now that's bullshit and you know it. This was always your home, John. And it always will be.”

“Was it while I was being Pyro? Would I have just been let back in as if nothing had happened if I'd come home then? You cannot honestly tell me the answer to that would be yes.”

“Bobby cannot, but I can.” Bobby and John looked behind them to see Charles there, a concerned look in his eyes. “You would always have been welcomed home, John.”

“I'm sorry, Professor, but that's such fucking bullshit,” John said quickly. “You know what I did out there. And, even if you didn't, all it would take is one look inside my head to see it all. And don't try telling me that you haven't done that. I know you have.”

Charles sighed heavily. “Bobby, can you give me and John a few moments alone?”

“Of course, Professor,” Bobby said, standing up. “I'll just go join everyone else.”

“Thank you,” Charles said, waiting until Bobby was a considerable distance away before continuing. “You have always been welcome here, John. And you always will be.”

John buried his head in his hands again. “Why?”

“Because when I look at you, I still see that scared eleven-year-old boy,” Charles said calmly. “You may have grown into a fine young man now, but deep down, you're still that scared eleven-year-old boy. And that eleven-year-old boy needed a home more than he needed anything else. Not even the ability to control his powers.”

John swallowed hard. “Does anyone else know anything about that night?”

“No,” Charles said. “I have kept the details of that night to myself. So has Jean. You have told your friends more about that night than Jean or I have ever spoken of it to anyone. I would recommend talking to Jubilee about it during one of your sessions, however.”

“Fuck no. She'd kill me.”

“She'll do nothing of the sort,” Charles said, reaching out and putting a hand on John's shoulder. “John, I understand why you left more than I think you do. And I need to tell you something so you understand why you've been welcomed home.”

“Tell me what?”

“The very concept of this school was come up with by myself and the best friend I've ever had back in 1962,” Charles said, squeezing John's shoulder before moving his hand away. “We had different philosophies about the place of humans in the world and their value and so we parted ways in rather unfortunate circumstances. He's never returned but I see him every once and awhile. And you've spent an awful lot of time with him.”

It took John a moment but then it clicked. “Magneto?”

“I prefer to refer to him as Erik, if you don't mind,” Charles said, a smile on his face. “At least, that gives me the chance to remember the man that I knew instead of thinking about the man that he's become.”

“Professor...I don't know what to say.”

“Good, because I'm not finished,” Charles said. “Erik walked away from me and this place in 1962 but not a day goes by where I don't wish that at some point he had come home. He's too far gone now, I realize that. But yet there is still part of me who would welcome him home to this day if he was remorseful.”

“And I'm remorseful,” John said after a moment. “That's why I'm allowed to be here.”

“I've known you were remorseful since about six weeks after Alcatraz. That night you saved the family that had been in the car accident from their fiery fate.”

John took in a shuddering breath. “You were watching me.”

“It just so happened that I was watching you at that moment, yes. I will admit, I was terribly afraid of what you were going to do to those people. But then you put out the fire and you pulled out your phone and you called for help before leaving, knowing full well that those people could probably identify you as Pyro.”

“I didn't want any more deaths on my conscience,” John said quietly. “Not when I could stop the thing that would have killed them.”

“I know,” Charles said. “And that's when my head was flooded with your thoughts on everything that you had done. I knew in that instant that you were remorseful. I would have gone to get you then if I could but I knew the others needed more convincing. I just had faith that you would give it to us. And you did.”

“If bringing me back here was always the goal why let me stay in Austin for so long?”

“Because you wouldn't have reacted well if we'd shown up sooner. It wasn't just about us being ready to welcome you home. You had to be ready to come home too.”

“Does anyone else know about the car accident?”

“No. I chose to keep that to myself. Perhaps I should have told Bobby then that he was right about you, but I didn't.”

“Bobby...” John started. “He...”

“Is the reason you left,” Charles finished. “He's not aware of that.”

“But you are.”

“You were one of my students, John. It was sort of my business to know everything that was going on around here.”

“So you know why.”

“Believe me, John, I have found out worse things around this place than one of my students being in love with his roommate,” Charles said softly. “Your secret doesn't even begin to register on the Richter scale.”

“Does everyone know?”

“Yes,” Charles said. “But he does not.”

“Fuck.”

“It's perfectly fine, John.”

“No, it really isn't.” John took a deep breath. “As for my powers, I haven't used them since that night. I realized how reckless that was and decided that using them was something I had to sacrifice to survive.”

“And survive you did,” Charles said, taking the change of subject for what it was. “But I want you to understand that you're in an environment now where you can safely use them again.”

“I'll think about it,” John said. 

“You should think about telling Bobby as well.”

“I can't do that.”

“Let me give you some advice then,” Charles said. “Tell him before it's too late.”

John glanced behind him to see Charles leaving, so he turned his attention back to the water in front of him.

Tell him before it's too late.

What was that even supposed to mean?


	4. Chapter 4

.7

John had been back at the mansion for three months, three weeks, and four days when Jubilee first made the suggestion. They'd been in the middle of a session, John had been complaining about what bullshit therapy was because nothing was helping, and she'd just said it. And at first he'd rejected it outright. But when he got back to his room and let everything that had just been discussed sink into his brain, he realized that she was probably right.

He laid there looking at the mirror for a few minutes before hauling himself off the bed and to the door. He was down the hall and into the elevator before he could think about it, and instead of hitting one of the buttons for the main floors, he punched in the code that he'd been given three weeks into his stay.

The code for downstairs.

When the elevator started to move, he leaned back against the wall and took a couple of deep breaths. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain this to whoever the doctor down there was, wondered if maybe there was a chart on him still so they could look up what had been done when he was a teenager. But maybe once he was down there words would find him. Maybe.

He hadn't been on medication for his depression since he was sixteen. He didn't have it with him when he left, knew that he wouldn't have been able to get more of it when he was with the Brotherhood anyway, and focused on survival instead of the horrible absence of emotions that had settled into his chest. Sometimes he thought not being on medication had made doing what he had to do to survive that much easier. There weren't a couple of pills a day reminding his brain that it could produce happy emotions too and he'd had absolutely nothing to be happy about anyway.

When the elevator came to a stop, John stayed inside it for a few moments. Was doing this really a good idea? Was having to live in a medication-induced haze really worth the benefits that he'd get from it?

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and that was to suffer for what he'd done.

Or maybe he didn't.

He exited the elevator and looked around the bright white hallway. He wasn't sure where anything was down there anymore, wasn't sure he was even in the right place anymore. He sighed heavily and was about to head back into the elevator when he heard a door open behind him, and he turned to see Hank walk out of it, shoving his hands into his pockets when Hank gave him a big smile.

“John! What a pleasure it is to see you down here!”

John didn't believe that for a second. “Dr. McCoy.”

“You're not a student anymore, John. Call me Hank.”

John nodded. “Um, is the infirmary still down here?”

“It is,” Hank said, coming to a stop in front of him. “Is something wrong?”

“I just...” John took a deep breath and forced himself to talk. “I need to talk to someone about going back on the medication I was on the last time I was here.”

Hank studied him for a moment before reaching out and putting a big, furry hand on John's shoulder. “I was wondering when you were going to reach out like this.”

“You were?” John croaked out. 

“We all were,” Hank said, smiling at him. “Come on. I'm not sure I'm the person to help but Jean's down here.”

John nodded and started to follow Hank as he walked back towards where he'd just come from. “She's the one who helped me before.”

“Excellent,” Hank said, walking past the door he'd come out of and down to another. “Right in here.”

John took a deep breath before walking through the door that Hank was holding open, glancing around once he was inside. The infirmary looked pretty much the same as it had the last time he'd been down there. Hell, it looked pretty much the same as it had that first night he'd ever been in the mansion. There were a few more beds than he remembered, a couple of new machines maybe. 

There was something about it that was oddly comforting.

“Jean,” Hank said, causing her to look up from the machine she had been studying. “John is here to talk to you.”

Jean just smiled at them. “Thank you, Hank.”

“I'll be upstairs in my class if you need me.”

John stood there as Hank turned and left, and then it was just John, Jean, and a bunch of empty beds. “No patients at the moment?”

“Nope,” Jean said. “We're currently very lucky. Usually there's at least four or five down here.”

“Four or five?” That shocked John. There had never been more than two every other time that he'd been down there. “Why so many?”

“More students,” Jean said, walking over to him. “There's quite a few more students here now than there were when you were here. More students means more who can't control their powers which means a lot of unintentional injuries. And then there's the fights. I'm sure you remember the fights.”

John did. He'd been a patient in the infirmary more than once because he'd pissed the wrong classmate off. “I didn't realize the school was that much bigger.”

“Well, ever since parents started hearing that this was the base of the X-Men, they've been more willing to send their children to school here. Many of them are happy to have their mutant child be taught by the few mutants they respect.”

Respect? Ah, yes. “They know that you've turned into a government response team.”

“The whole country does,” Jean said. “But we don't work for the government.”

“Of course you don't.”

“We really don't,” Jean said seriously. “You honestly think the government wouldn't want their hands on all of this if they knew about it? We are willing to help them out when they need it but only because their idea of a response last time was to shoot the cure at mutants.”

John didn't need a reminder of that night. “Right.”

Jean studied him for a moment before a soft smile crossed her face. “So you've come for medication, I take it?”

“Am I that easily read?”

“I've just been waiting for this,” Jean said, walking away from him. “We all have.”

“Why does it feel like everyone in this school knows more about me than I do?” John asked. “Because I never even had this thought until Jubes mentioned it to me today.”

“You don't trust yourself,” Jean said, opening up a cabinet and looking through it. “And, if the past few months is anything to go by, you think you deserve to suffer.”

“I do,” was out of John's mouth before he could stop himself, shrugging when Jean looked over at him. “I mean, I do.”

“No one deserves to suffer, John.”

“Easy enough for you to say. You haven't done what I've done.”

Jean took something out of the cabinet and then walked over to him. “Sometimes I think you don't even know what it is you've done.”

“Trust me, I do,” John said. “The memories play back every night when I try to sleep.”

“Is there one that is particularly worse than the others?”

“The hospital.” 

John didn't think that needed explanation. Jean didn't ask for one. 

“You should talk to Jubilee about that. She'll be able to help.”

John let out a small chuckle. “I'm not convinced any of this talking is going to help.”

“It will,” Jean said softly. “You just have to give it a real chance.”

“I'm trying to,” John said seriously. “I think Jubes would cut off my balls if I didn't.”

Jean let a smile cross her face. “Yes, Jubilee does tend to have reactions like that when it comes to you. You should have seen her when she found out you were gone.”

John swallowed hard. “What did she do?”

“Let's just say there were a lot of walls that needed to be repaired,” Jean said, holding out a bottle. “Same medication you were on before. Same dose. Let me know if it's not working and we can adjust it.”

John took the bottle and looked down at it, seeing the neatly printed label with his name on it. “You've really been waiting for this, haven't you?”

“I've been prepared since before the Professor sent Kitty and Piotr to Austin,” Jean admitted. “We wanted to be able to help you in any way necessary once you returned and I had a feeling you weren't on any medication based on what Alison was telling us about your conversations.”

John blinked rapidly and ducked his head down when he realized that tears were forming in his eyes. “I can't understand why you all want to help me.”

“Because we love you,” Jean said softly. “I'm not going to lie and say it didn't take awhile, but eventually all of us remembered the boy who had been here, the boy who needed a home. Bobby was insistent that you were still him. The Professor joined in with that opinion after awhile and, well, if the Professor thought that then it was probably true. It took the rest of us awhile to fully understand what had happened though. We got in a lot of intelligence about what the Brotherhood had been up to from the government and from Raven.”

“Mystique,” John said automatically.

“Yes,” Jean said. “But when she's here she prefers to be known as Raven.”

John looked up at that. “When she's here?”

“Most of the time the communication is all electronic but she comes to visit every once and awhile. Sits in the Professor's study with him for hours sometimes. But don't ask me any more about that because I won't tell you.”

“I won't,” John said. “So she told you what I got up to in the Brotherhood, hm?”

“She enlightened us more than anything else,” Jean said, reaching up to trace the thin scar along John's left temple. “She told us how you got that, for example.”

John shuddered at the memory. “It wasn't a good idea to fail him. I knew that.”

“And you didn't do what he wanted anyway,” Jean said, dropping her hand back down. “That's something you should talk to Jubilee about too.”

John just nodded and shook the bottle in his hand. “Thank you, Jean.”

“Of course,” Jean said, smiling at him as he turned to leave. “Oh, and John?”

John paused at the door, looking back at her. “What?”

“It was good to see you down here,” she said softly. “Maybe next time you'll come participate in a Danger Room session. They're quite different to what you remember.”

John wanted to tell her no. Wanted to tell her that he was afraid that going into that room and participating in one of those sessions would just make Pyro reemerge. Wanted to tell her that he had no plans to use his powers again any time soon.

Instead he just nodded. “I'll think about it.”

 

 

.8

“John. Johnny.”

John woke with a start to find Bobby sitting on the edge of his bed, running a cool hand down the side of his face. He didn't need to ask why Bobby was sitting there, didn't need to wonder what had caused Bobby to come into his room in the middle of the night. 

He'd probably been screaming again.

He sucked in a deep breath and glanced over at the door, happy to see that it was shut and that the crowd that sometimes gathered wasn't there. He let his eyes close again for a moment, concentrated on the cool feeling of Bobby's hand on his skin, and took another deep breath.

“I'm sorry,” were the first words that escaped him. “I'm sorry this keeps happening.”

“It's okay, Johnny,” Bobby said softly. “It really is.”

John took another deep breath and went to sit up, but Bobby just pushed him back down and climbed over top of him, settling along his back. John felt his heart jump into his throat as Bobby's arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, and he let himself savor the feeling for a few moments before speaking again. 

“You should go back to your room. I'll be fine.”

“No, you won't.”

John didn't have to ask how Bobby knew that. They'd done this many times since John had returned to the mansion. Bobby had stayed with him for hours after a dream sometimes, but he'd never climbed onto the bed like this before. 

“What were you dreaming of tonight?” Bobby asked. 

“The clinic,” John whispered. “That day I saw you.”

There had been many clinics. John didn't dare think about any of the others.

“I still have never worked out why you were at that particular clinic,” Bobby said quietly. “We all thought you were on the other side of the country.”

“I had been,” John said, his voice hoarse. “But that...I can explain that. Not easily.”

“Take your time.”

It took John a few minutes before he spoke again. “I wanted to come home.”

He hoped that Bobby wouldn't ask for any more explanation than that, but he knew that was a lost cause. As soon as the words he'd just said sunk into Bobby's brain, he was going to be bombarded with questions that he wasn't sure he had answers to. So instead of waiting for Bobby, he decided to keep talking.

“I was supposed to be in Virginia. Solo mission, big target. Something he trusted me and only me with. But I got to this side of the country and I just wanted out. I'd wanted out for so long. So, so long. So when I got the car, instead of heading to Virginia, I headed here. I panicked and thought about him tracking me down and what would happen to me if he did. So I stopped at the clinic, thought about getting the shot just so I could no longer be useful to him. 

“And then you were there and...God, it was so good to see you, Bobby. I'd missed you so, so much. But I knew in that instant that I couldn't do it, I couldn't go home. I was too far gone; I'd never be welcomed back. So I had to do what was expected of me. I said all that stupid shit to you, firebombed the clinic, and ran. I made my way to Virginia after that, carried out my mission, and headed back to him. But he knew. He knew that the clinic here was me. I have one hell of a scar on my upper thigh from how angry he was.”

“Did he do that often?” was what Bobby chose to ask him after all of that, and John wasn't sure what to make of it.

“No,” John said after a moment. “It was rare.”

“I'm so sorry that you had to go through that,” Bobby said softly. “I'm sure it brought up some memories.”

“You could say that.” John shuddered as thoughts of his father went through his head. “Didn't matter though. It was what it was.”

“You know what I thought that day?” Bobby asked. “I thought you were headed to attack the school. I thought you were that far gone.”

John swallowed hard. “I deserve that. I was.”

“You know what I realized when you didn't attack the school though? That you weren't.” Bobby paused for a moment. “I didn't think I could kill you after that. I had this thought that Johnny, my Johnny, was still in there somewhere. Logan was furious when he found out that I didn't kill you at Alcatraz. Thought I'd let the next leader of the Brotherhood escape. He's still not on board with this.”

Bobby had thought he wasn't too far gone before Alcatraz? After watching him, physically watching him, kill people? John could still remember the death total from every site he attacked. The one he'd seen Bobby at had been nine. 

That was one of the smaller totals he had to live with.

“Where is he?” John asked, glad to be able to focus on something else.

“Logan is in Japan,” Bobby said. “And he's not coming back anytime soon. Said he needed a real break from this place and the Professor was happy to give him one.”

John let out a small, hollow laugh. “Something tells me that's a good thing. I'll probably end up with those claws through my chest when he does come back.”

“We won't let that happen,” Bobby said seriously. “I won't let that happen.”

“Why do you care so much about me?” was out of John's mouth before he could stop himself. “I don't deserve it.”

“You don't know what you deserve, Johnny,” Bobby sighed. “I forgave you for leaving the moment you did, you know. I knew you weren't happy here and that you wanted out. And every time Pyro came up in the news, Jubes and I would steal ice cream from the kitchen and go sit in our gazebo and talk about you. She was furious. I was angry. But I couldn't give up on you. Still can't.”

“But why?” John asked, unsure if he really wanted the answer but needing it anyway.

“Because I didn't realize how much I cared about you until you were gone. And believe me, Johnny, it's a lot.”

John swallowed hard. He wanted to ask Bobby what that was supposed to mean, wanted to know if it was what his heart still so desperately wanted.

But Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it wasn't love.

“I didn't realize how much you meant to me till I left,” John said honestly. “Probably still don't.”

“We can figure that out now that you're home then,” Bobby said, tightening the arm he had around John's waist.

“Yeah,” John said, pausing to yawn. “I guess we can.”

“Go back to sleep, Johnny,” Bobby said softly. “I'm not going anywhere.”

John nodded and let his eyes close. He felt a brush against the back of his neck and sighed, telling himself that it was just Bobby's fingers and nothing more.

He fell asleep before he could realize that it had been a kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

.9

It was raining when John started down the path on the east side of the grounds. He was pretty sure that everyone at the mansion was either teaching classes or attending them so he'd taken the opportunity before he had a chance to think about it too much. He followed the path around the lake and through the trees to where a tall gazebo stood. 

Taking a deep breath, he climbed up the steps and made his way over to the spot that had always been his. He glanced around the wooden structure, determined that it looked exactly the same as it had the last time he'd been there, and then looked down and to his right. The burn was still there, six letters surrounding an X, one to symbolize each of them. He reached out and traced his finger over every letter, tried to determine why it was that they'd never painted over it. 

He'd fully expected it to be gone.

This was the one piece of school property that he'd actually burned something into on purpose. It had been a late night right after the spring semester ended and all six of them had been hanging out in the gazebo for hours. A small flame John was maintaining in the middle kept the light shining well after darkness; a stolen bottle of whiskey was being passed around. They'd made the decision to mark the gazebo about an hour earlier and had debated what the mark should be when John had just done it. 

The symbol of the destiny they were all being groomed for.

The Professor had made it very clear by that point that they were all X-Men in training. The burn was their way of making a pact with each other. All of them or none of them. The six of them were going to do this together.

And then he'd left.

The rain started to come down harder and John sat there for what felt like hours, clothes soaked down to the skin and staring at the burn. Then suddenly the rain stopped. He knew what that meant without having to look around.

“Hello, Storm.”

Storm came walking into the gazebo a moment later, sitting down next to John and watching him trace the burn. “Some of them wanted to paint over it.”

“They should have.”

“The Professor wouldn't let them,” Storm said, reaching out and covering John's hand with hers. “And it's not something you should be dwelling on.”

“That's what I do, Storm. I dwell on things.”

“You always have,” Storm said softly. “You always have a lot on your conscience. But you used to share it with people. You're not doing that anymore.”

John took a deep breath. “I can't talk to anyone about what's on my mind today.”

“Not even me?” Storm asked, and John looked up to see her giving him a soft smile. “You used to talk to me about things you couldn't tell your friends about.”

“I know,” John said, running a hand through his hair. “I'm just sure no one wants to hear this.”

“I do.” 

“No, you really don't.” 

Storm squeezed John's hand. “Everyone was pretty worried when no one could find you. But I told them I knew where you were. You know why I knew this is where you'd be?”

“Why?”

“Because I looked at the date.”

John inhaled sharply. 

“I always knew this was where you came on this particular day. I never even reported that you were absent from class on this day.”

John blinked rapidly as tears filled his eyes. “It's been fifteen years.”

“I know, John.”

John forced himself to take a breath. “Sometimes I think about what she would have thought, you know? Her baby boy, her world, turned into a murderer. She'd be horrified at what I have become. I was going to be the family's great hope. I was going to be the one who thrived. Instead I've turned into this. Nothing more than a fucking murderer.”

“You did thrive,” Storm said softly. “And you're more than just a murderer.”

“No, I'm not,” John said, shaking his head. “I know you all seem to think that there's some part of me from before that's left but there's not. I'll never be that person again, Storm. Ever.”

“No one is asking you to be sixteen-year-old John Allerdyce again. We just want you to realize that the John Allerdyce you are now is a good person.”

“You can't be a good person and have done what I've done.”

Storm leaned back against the gazebo's railing. “You're not the only one in this house who has killed people, you know.”

“No, I'm just the only one who has done it in cold blood.”

Storm watched him for a moment. “Have you ever told anyone but me about your mother, John?”

“No. I mean, the Professor knows. So does Jean. But I've never really talked to them about it. Not the way I talked to you.” John took a deep breath. “I just wanted to show her what I could do, you know? Just light a candle in front of her. Instead I have to live with the fact that I lost control and killed her. Jubes is always trying to get me to talk about these sorts of things with her. And I'm trying, I really am. But I don't know how to talk about being a murderer without going back and starting with that day fifteen years ago. Because that's the day that I became a murderer, accident or not. I killed the only person who I loved.”

“Why don't you talk to Jubilee about it?”

“Because I don't want to talk about my father's death,” John said seriously. “And I know that's where that conversation would go.”

“Your father's death?” Storm said. “I wasn't aware that he'd died.”

“Fuck, I'd already killed so many people,” John said after a moment. “I figured I might as well kill the one who haunted me still, who I wanted dead more than anyone else on the planet. The look on his face when I walked into that house again...I'll never forget it. For once, he was the one who was scared.”

“I think that's why you're struggling with this so much,” Storm eventually said. “Everyone else that you killed was a casualty of you trying to survive. Your father was something else. That's why you're so insistent that you're nothing but a murderer.”

“I am nothing but a murderer,” John said, his voice hollow. “I've been nothing but a murderer since I was eight years old. And he always blamed me for her death, always. So he took it out on me in ways that I have never told anyone. ”

“I cannot say that I completely understand. I was never in the situation you were in, never felt abuse like you endured. But I do get why you wanted revenge.”

“I wanted more than revenge, Storm.” John sucked in a shuddering breath. “Every fucking letter I got from my grandmother about him as a teenager just made my anger build and build and build. She wrote like he was the one who had been abused, like he was the one who had suffered, and that it was all my fault because of what I did to my mother. It just made me...I wanted him fucking dead. I wanted him dead for years. And then when I had a chance, I just went and did it.

“The others...that happened because I needed to survive. I have a notebook full of their names. I'll never forget a single one of them, never forget a single place I was when I took their lives. But I almost justified that to myself. It was just what I had to do. I hate that part of me but I also understand that part of me. But my father...that's something else. That's me murdering a man because I wanted to. I wanted it so badly I could almost taste it. And I stood there and watched that house burn and listened to him scream and I enjoyed every fucking second of it.

“But you know the part that's the worst? The thoughts of what she would think. She always told me that I didn't know the real him, that he was so wonderful to her in ways that I never knew. She always got mad at me when I protected myself by hitting him back, said it would only make things worse. If she knew what I did to him, she'd be so disappointed.”

Storm moved closer to John as a strangled noise escaped him, pulling him into a hug. John let his head rest against her shoulder as the tears fell, sobs wracking his body. She ran a hand down the back of John's head, trying to soothe him. “It's okay, John. It's okay.”

“It's not okay,” John got out. “It's never going to be okay.”

“I think you need to talk to Jubilee about this,” Storm said after a few minutes. 

“I can't,” John said, pulling back. “I don't want anyone looking at me differently. It's bad enough they know what they know.”

“Have you ever told any of them about the abuse you endured?”

“I told Bobby a little. Not everything. Not even close to everything.”

“Did he look at you differently after you told him?”

John shook his head. “This is different.”

“It's not that different,” Storm said. “You need to talk about it with someone, John. All of it. Even the stuff you've never told me. Otherwise it's going to destroy you.”

“It already has.” John coughed and stood up, glancing down at his clothes. “I suppose I should go find some clothes that aren't so wet.”

“John,” Storm said, causing him to turn and look at her. “I'm glad you told me. I'm glad you told someone. It's not good for you to keep all of this bottled up inside. Bad things happen when you do that.”

“Bad things happen no matter what I do,” John said, jogging down the steps of the gazebo and back into the rain.

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it was all bad, never good.

He thought about what he'd told Storm the entire way back to the mansion. It stayed on his mind through the quick shower he took, through looking through the closet for fresh clothes to wear, through attempting to read one of the books Hank had left. 

When one o'clock hit, he walked into Jubilee's office and dropped down into his chair. She smiled and sat down across from him, then asked the question that she started every session off with.

“What do you want to talk about today, John?”

John sat there for a few moments, thought about what Storm had said earlier, and ran his hands over his face. “I want to talk about my mother. And my father.”

Jubilee just nodded. “Whenever you're ready, I'm here to listen.”

John sat there over the next hour and told her the surface level of everything. From the abuse to the death of his mother to how he'd murdered his father. Jubilee asked questions, provided guidance when he started down dark paths, and never once looked at him with anger or pity, the two things he'd been fearing.

By the time he walked out of her office, John felt a little better. 

He never thought he'd ever be able to say that.

 

 

.10

John was wandering the halls when he came across Kitty's classroom. He still wasn't sure what it was she taught, still couldn't really think of her as a professor. The Kitty in his mind was still the eleven-year-old girl who had arrived at the mansion a couple of months after he had, the girl from considerably better circumstances than anyone else he knew. Her parents hadn't cast her out; they'd sent her there willingly. Kitty had been incredibly shy when she'd first arrived, keeping to herself, before John one day had skipped sitting at his regular table with Bobby and Jubilee and went and sat down next to her.

He wondered if she still remembered that.

He wondered why he still did.

Bobby had been his best friend and Jubilee had been his confidante, but Kitty was something else. She was soft smiles and good laughs, full of stories and happy to listen to anything anyone had to say. She always took better notes in class than John ever did, always handed them over during their lunch or dinner breaks so that John could study properly for the exam the next day without him even needing to ask for them. She was always so excited when John would light all the candles in her room at the same time, always happy to phase him through doors so they could slip into class late without being noticed. 

It had taken him awhile to figure out why he was so attached to her because it wasn't that she was beautiful – even though she was – and it wasn't because there was any sort of attraction. And then one Tuesday afternoon, he'd been watching her blush her way through a conversation with Piotr and it hit him. 

Kitty was the one who made John realize he could be loved again.

Because Kitty loved him. Bobby appreciated him and Jubilee adored him, but Kitty loved him long before they ever did. He wasn't sure if that love had ever been a crush or not, wasn't sure if he'd unintentionally broken her heart somewhere along the way. He was pretty sure he hadn't, pretty sure that the only guy Kitty had ever had her eyes on was Piotr, but just the thought of having done that made his heart ache. 

Saint John Allerdyce hated hurting people, especially when those people were as beautiful as Kitty was.

He shook himself of his thoughts when the students inside the classroom started to get up and move to the door. He went to leave but then heard Kitty call out his name, so he waited for all the students to exit before slipping inside. He looked around the room for a moment, remembered having geography inside of it, and smiled at the memory of the presentation he and Jubilee had done about Amsterdam that had landed them both in detention for a month.

Who knew that talking about weed for three minutes when they were thirteen would have caused so many problems?

Kitty was observing him from her desk when he turned around, a soft smile on her face. She motioned to one of the desks and John took a deep breath before sitting down, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him like he always used to. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You've been looking better recently,” Kitty said, walking over to John and sitting down next to him.

“I have?”

“Yes, you have,” Kitty said firmly. “And it's been easier to be around you too. We're not worried about you exploding anymore.”

“I feel like I should apologize for that.”

“It's fine, John,” Kitty said softly. “We all were anticipating that.”

“Still doesn't make it okay,” John murmured, glancing down at Kitty's hands when she put them on the table. “Nice ring.”

Kitty grinned as she twisted the diamond on her finger. “It was a huge surprise. And Piotr was actually worried that I'd say no too.”

“I hope you told him that you'd been ready to say yes to that proposal since you were eleven then.”

Kitty laughed. “Oh, let me assure you that he knows all about my childhood crush. Bobby and Jubes were all too happy to fill him in about that.”

“When did you start dating?”

“Not that long after you left, actually. Well, we just started spending a lot more time together, just the two of us. And then suddenly we were holding hands walking down the hallway, stealing kisses in the cafeteria. All that teenage love stuff that we were all so used to seeing other couples do. Thinking back on it makes me cringe, really.”

“There's nothing wrong with teenage love, Kitty. Especially when it grows into what you guys have now.”

“Nothing wrong with your teenage love either.”

John sucked in a sharp breath. “Jubes wants me to tell him. Says it'll take another thing off my conscience and that it'll make me feel better.”

“She's right about that,” Kitty said. “And I think you should tell him too.”

“Why? It's not like he'll ever feel the same way.”

Kitty sighed heavily. “You don't know what he feels.”

“And you do?”

“I know a hell of a lot more about it than you do,” Kitty said. “Look, something changed when you left, okay? He realized that what he thought he felt for you was very different to what he actually felt for you. He tried to push it out of his mind, to forget about you like he thought you'd forgotten about him, but it never worked. He only started laughing again when I finally decided it was bullshit that we weren't talking about you anymore and I mentioned something, I don't even remember what, that he just found hysterical. It made Rogue furious with me for awhile, but it was worth it.”

“Ah yes, the beginning of the end of their relationship. Jubes told me about that.”

“Their relationship was over before you left. Bobby just didn't realize it.”

John turned to look at her. “Excuse me?”

“He was miserable with Rogue,” Kitty murmured. “Told me so after she left for good. He just didn't know how to deal with what he was really feeling. He always knew he was conflicted, even if he didn't realize why until years later.”

“I don't know what that's supposed to mean.”

“It means you need to talk to Bobby. Tell him how you feel.”

“I can't do that,” John said, shaking his head. “I refuse to face rejection from him. I don't think I could handle that.”

“Why are you so convinced it'll be rejection?” Kitty asked. “You have no idea how he'll react.”

“I lived with him for five years, Kitty. I know Bobby Drake better than any of you. He's straight as an arrow, cannot and will not bend. And he was the only person I've ever told certain things to and not had push me away. So to have him push me away because I stupidly decided to tell him that I'm in love with him? I'm not willing to go through that.”

Kitty sighed. “Oh, John.”

“What? It's the truth.”

“Then ask him about the guy in Westchester that he fooled around with for awhile after Rogue left for New Orleans,” Kitty said, standing up. “I've got to go to my office. There's some students coming in for a meeting. It was good to see you here though. You should come by more often.”

John was frozen in place as Kitty walked over to her desk and picked up some folders. “The guy?” he finally got out.

“The guy,” Kitty confirmed. “I'm telling you, Johnny, you don't know him at all.”

John sat there as Kitty walked out the door, her words tumbling around in his mind. 

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that she was wrong. She had to be wrong. Bobby Drake was as clean-cut, straight boy as they came.

But what if he wasn't?

John got up and left before he could think about it any further.


	6. Chapter 6

.11

It took six months, one week, and four days before John decided that they were all insane. They'd been in the private kitchen having breakfast when Hank came running into the room, breathlessly telling everyone about a Brotherhood attack expected to happen that afternoon that the government had requested help with. He rattled off a few details that John didn't understand, said it was something everyone was required for, and everyone but John had stood up, quickly making their way out of the kitchen. John had dropped his head into his hands, was refusing to let himself go down the train of thought his mind so desperately wanted to whenever he heard the word Brotherhood, when Charles came into the kitchen and said the words that John couldn't believe.

“We're all going to be gone for awhile, John. I've informed the students that classes are canceled, but please keep an eye on them for us. You're in charge while we're gone and they know that.”

And then Charles had left the kitchen, leaving John sitting there with his jaw dropped.

What the fuck were they leaving him in charge for?

Saint John Allerdyce should never be in charge of anything, especially a group of children.

There were other teachers at the school who were not members of the X-Men. Some of them had been there since John was eleven. Why wasn't one of them in charge? 

John sat there for a moment before the reasoning came to him and then he sighed heavily.

None of the other teachers were mutants. John had been chosen to be in charge because if something happened he could protect the students, the fact that he hadn't used his powers in almost six years not even considered.

John wasn't even sure he knew how to use his powers anymore. If he had any control left.

And he wasn't about to find out.

Before he realized it, he was out of the kitchen and walking towards the cafeteria. He stood at one side of the large entrance once he was there, looking in on the room that he knew so well. His eyes zeroed in on the table that had been theirs, watched the kids sitting there for a few moments as memories flashed through his mind. 

The time that Jubilee had accidentally set the table on fire and he'd been able to put it out without losing control of it. The time that Kitty had tried to sit down and instead phased herself through the chair and the floor. The time when everyone had been so engrossed in their conversation that their ice cream melted and Bobby had frozen the entire table in an attempt to refreeze their dessert. 

The time that he'd looked at Bobby Drake and realized he was in love. 

He knew Kitty was furious with him because he still hadn't asked Bobby the questions that he'd had ever since she had mentioned that Bobby had been in a relationship with another man. Or, well, maybe it wasn't a relationship. She hadn't actually said the word relationship. She'd only referenced some fooling around.

Fuck, he was thinking about this too much. 

But he couldn't just walk up to Bobby and ask him without telling him why he was asking. And he couldn't do that. No matter what Jubilee and Kitty were continually telling him, letting Bobby know that he'd been in love with him since he was thirteen was totally out of the question. He knew Bobby could never feel that way about him. Ever. He'd accepted that a long time ago.

Except maybe he didn't have a fucking clue what he was talking about. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened since he got back to the mansion and it probably wouldn't be the last.

He left the cafeteria when he noticed a few of the students had started staring at him, wandering the halls until he reached the entry way. Standing there was a beautiful blonde woman who looked completely out of place and he was about to ask how she'd gotten inside when a large smile broke out on her face.

“Pyro.”

He knew that voice. He knew that voice very, very well.

“Mystique.”

“I prefer Raven when I'm here, if you don't mind,” she said, walking towards him. “You look good.”

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not,” Raven said, shaking her head. “I'm glad you got away.”

“Sure you are,” came out of John's mouth before he could stop himself, causing Raven to sigh. 

“I never wanted you to go through what he put you through,” she said softly. “He treated you worse than anyone else.”

“Well, I was the soldier he never wanted no matter how much he liked what I could do, so...” John trailed off. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Charles,” Raven said. “He usually meets me here though.”

“The Professor is not here. None of the X-Men are.”

Raven just sighed. “Another call from the government?”

“Apparently.”

“I keep telling Charles that they shouldn't be doing that but he never listens. So, who did he leave in charge? Surely one of them stayed behind.”

John let out a small laugh. “He, for some fucking reason, left me in charge.”

Raven reached out and put a hand on John's shoulder. “Isn't that a good thing?”

“Why the fuck would that be a good thing?” John exclaimed, shoving Raven's hand off. “I can barely bring myself to leave my room some days and suddenly I'm in charge of the entire mansion? It makes absolutely no fucking sense. And he knows, he has to know, that if someone were to attack the school right now I couldn't do what it is he wants me to.”

“You wouldn't protect the students?”

“I'd do everything I could to protect the students,” John said, surprising himself with how much he meant that. “But I wouldn't use fire to do it.”

Raven looked at him with understanding. “You know suppressing your powers isn't a good thing, right?”

“I know that I had no choice,” John said firmly. “It was about survival.”

“Yeah, but it doesn't have to be anymore.” Raven looked around as a couple of students walked down the stairs. “You're safe here.”

“They knew where I was,” John said suddenly. “The Brotherhood. They knew where I was.”

“I know,” Raven said. “Charles told me. But they don't know where you are now.”

“I can't believe that.”

“Trust me,” Raven said. “They don't know where you are.”

John gave her a curious look and she shrugged. “My powers have their advantages. And no one around there knows who everyone is. It's really easy to go walk around and have no one notice.”

John swallowed hard. “You're sure about that?”

“I'm positive,” Raven said. “Charles isn't going to like what I came to tell him though.”

John knew what she was talking about without having to ask. “He's back.”

“He can't move much right now, only small pieces of metal, but yes, he's back. The leadership of the Brotherhood has been in communication with him for awhile now. It's only a matter of time before he's in control of everything again.”

“And then they'll come for me,” John said. “Because he'll know where I am.”

“No one knows where you are,” Raven said seriously. “But if they can't find where you've gone, they'll probably start to suspect.”

“Fuck,” John muttered. “What do you think they'll do?”

“They're already searching for me,” Raven said. “I'm just lucky enough that I can hide in plain sight. You on the other hand...”

John sighed as she reached up and tugged at his hair. “It was the only thing I could do.”

“I know. But if anyone from the Brotherhood leadership saw you, they'd know it was you in an instant.”

“I know they would,” John said, taking a deep breath. “So your advice?”

“Don't dwell on it,” Raven said firmly. “Dwelling on it will only make you paranoid. And since you're here, there's no reason to be. They'll protect you.”

“I don't want anyone to fight on my behalf.”

“They wouldn't be fighting on your behalf,” Raven said. “They all know how capable you are, even if you refuse to use it. They'd be fighting for their friend.”

“I don't have friends.”

Raven just gave him a look. “That's fucking bullshit and you know it. You even had friends in the Brotherhood.”

“I only had you.”

“And I was a friend. There's a reason I didn't tell the government your name, you know. And it was because I always hoped you'd find a way out.” Raven sighed and looked around. “Tell everyone I stopped by, okay? I'll send the rest of my info electronically to Jean. And tell Hank that I'm really sorry I missed him.”

“I will,” John said, watching her walk towards the door. “Mystique. Raven.”

Raven paused and turned towards him. “What?” 

“Thank you,” John murmured. “I didn't deserve that, but thank you.”

“You deserve the world, John,” Raven said, smiling at him. “Try to remember that.”

John stood in the entry way for a long time after she walked out the door, eyes closed and breathing deep. Eventually he felt a small hand pull on his and he opened his eyes to see a girl with purple hair and violet eyes staring up at him, a group of her friends right behind her. “Hi.”

“We want to practice using our powers,” the girl said. “And Professor Drake told us that you might be willing to help us.”

Of course he had.

But he remembered the kids he used to help at the rec center and he found himself smiling before he could stop himself. “Alright. Where do you usually do that? Out on the lawn?”

The girl broke into a big grin. “Yeah, I'll show you where.”

 

 

.12

Bobby walked into John's room six months, two weeks, and six days after he'd first returned to the mansion and said the one thing that John had been dreading.

“Kitty and Jubes said there was something you wanted to talk to me about.”

“Fuck,” John said, running his hands over his face. “I fucking hate them.”

“No, you don't,” Bobby said, coming to lie next to him on the bed. “Whatever it is, they mean well.”

“I know they do,” John said, sighing heavily. “It's just none of their fucking business.”

“Well, if it helps any, they want me to tell you something too.”

“Tell me what?” John asked, looking over at him.

Bobby just shook his head. “They said you have to tell me first.”

“Of course they fucking did,” John said, letting his eyes close. 

There was no fucking way he could do this. But he also knew that if he didn't tell Bobby now, Kitty would tell Bobby herself and Jubilee would kill him because that's what they'd both been threatening. So he took a deep breath and thought about how to phrase things.

“Alison told me you came to watch her sing more than once,” was what eventually came out of his mouth, and it wasn't what he'd been planning to say but he went with it. “You said it was once.”

“I didn't know you were still speaking to Alison.”

“She calls every once and awhile, wants to know how I am,” John said. “And you're avoiding what I said.”

“I did, yes. She was good.”

“But you didn't go watch her sing because she was good, did you?”

Bobby just shrugged. “I wanted to know anything I could about you. I used to drive Alison insane on those assignments because I'd want to know everything she knew about you.”

“So you thought you'd learn something about me by following me to the club Alison was singing at and watching me all night.”

“Maybe?”

“And what did you learn about me?”

“Well, I learned what your favorite drink was. Never pictured you drinking Manhattans before.”

“Bobby, you probably didn't have any idea what a Manhattan was.”

“True,” Bobby said, laughing. “I learned what your favorite of Alison's songs was.”

“I think my favorite changed every week. She was always changing up her set list.”

“I know,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “I also learned what kind of guys you liked.”

John groaned as that thought slammed into the side of his head like a truck. It had never even occurred to him before. “Fuck. You shouldn't know that.”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes. Never thought you'd go for that type.”

John turned to look at him. “You didn't?”

“Nah,” Bobby said. “Always thought you were more of a dark and brooding kind of guy.”

John laughed. “I do enough of that myself.”

“True,” Bobby said. “Why is it a problem that I know what kind of guys you like?”

“It's not,” John said shakily. “I guess I'm just afraid of you knowing the reason why.”

Bobby reached out and put his hand on John's. “I thought it after seeing that over and over and over but I...I didn't know if I was right.”

“It's fine,” John got out. “I got over it. Nothing to worry about.”

Bobby's hand squeezed his. “Johnny, you're not over it if you're acting this way.”

John closed his eyes to try to keep some sort of control over his emotions. “It's fine. Everything's fine. You don't...and that's fine. I accepted that a long time ago.”

John kept his eyes closed as he felt Bobby move around on the bed, certain that he was getting up and leaving and walking out of his life forever. 

Saint John Allerdyce deserved that. He didn't deserve him staying. 

He hadn't used his lighter since that day at Alcatraz but he was severely tempted to fish it out of his pocket, track down Kitty and Jubilee, and burn them to a crisp. He'd never do it though. And he knew that. 

Really, he did. 

John nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the gentle press of lips against his, and he opened his eyes to see Bobby hovering above him. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Yes,” Bobby said simply. “And I've wanted to do that for a very long time.”

“What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” John felt like he could barely breathe, so he wasn't entirely sure how he was still forming sentences.

“I told you that I didn't know how much I cared about you until you left,” Bobby said softly. “And I meant that. And I spent a long time, and I mean a long time, years really, trying to figure out why that was. But I eventually figured it out. I just wish I'd figured it out when we were sixteen. I think both of our lives would be very different if I had.”

And that's when John realized that Bobby had figured out he was the reason John had left. He stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “Bobby...I...”

“It all made sense, you know? You had gotten so miserable after Rogue showed up, you hated listening to me talk about her. I always knew you hated it. I've taken in all of that, I've listened to everything you've said since you came home, and I just...you didn't leave because you believed in his ideals. You left because of me.”

“Yes,” was out of John's mouth before he could stop it. “I did.”

“Were you ever going to tell me that?”

“Probably not. I was never going to tell you about this either.”

Bobby just shook his head. “Oh, Johnny, what am I ever going to do with you?”

“I'll leave you alone, I swear,” John said. “This doesn't have to change anything.”

Bobby just rolled his eyes. “Do you not understand what I'm telling you?”

“Apparently not?”

Bobby bent down and kissed John hard. John laid there for a moment in shock before bringing his hands up to tangle in Bobby's hair, changing the angle so he could kiss him the way he'd always wanted to, the way he'd always dreamed of. 

After all, he was only ever going to get to do this once, so he might as well make the most of it.

They kissed until they had to break away to breathe, and Bobby gave John the best smile John had ever seen, stealing away the breath that he'd just gotten.

“I love you,” John said before he could think about it. “I know you don't feel the same way and that you never will but I just had to say it.”

“You really are an idiot, you know that?” Bobby said, shaking his head. “I guess I should just say it.”

“Say what?”

“I love you too, John,” Bobby said, bending down for another kiss. 

“What?” he eventually got out when Bobby pulled back, pretty sure that he wasn't going to be able to say another thing for the rest of his life because of how tight his throat was. 

“I love you,” Bobby said again, pressing kisses to his jaw. “I have since we were teenagers. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to realize it. And I'm so, so sorry that I took this long to tell you. You deserved to know that months ago. Years ago.”

John fell silent for several minutes, and it was only when Bobby pulled back and was staring at him with confusion that he sprung into action. He rolled Bobby onto his back and climbed on top of him, bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss. He could feel Bobby smile into it as Bobby's hands slid up the back of his t-shirt, and John shuddered at the feeling of cool hands on his warm skin. They kissed until they needed air, then they kissed again, and again, and again, and again. 

It was the sound of a knock on the door that finally broke them apart. John's forehead came to rest on Bobby's chest as he sucked in a couple of deep breaths before he could speak.

“What?”

“Is Bobby in there?” came Piotr's voice. “The Professor wants him to go with him to pick up a mutant in need and we can't find him anywhere.”

“I'll be down in a minute, Piotr,” Bobby said, making John look up at him. “You okay, Johnny?”

“I'm fine,” John said. 

Bobby pulled him into another kiss. “I've got to go, but as soon as I'm done with all of this, I'm coming back here and we can continue, okay?”

John climbed off of him, laid down on the bed, and tried not to think about what Bobby had just said. Except that he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it. Bobby wanted to continue this. Continue it to what conclusion, John didn't know, but all of this was way more than he'd ever been expecting, so he was just going to go with it. 

“That's totally okay, Bobby.”


	7. Chapter 7

.13

John was looking in cabinets in the private kitchen when Scott walked in, setting a couple of bags down on the counter. “Scott.”

“John.” Scott started taking stuff out of the bags until he realized what John was doing. “Liquor's not in here anymore. Too many kids sneak in. Like I remember you doing often.”

John laughed. “Someone had to get the whiskey.”

“I know. I used to do the same thing when I was a student,” Scott said, smiling. “What do you want a drink for?”

“I think I need it after the conversation Bobby and I just had.”

“Tough subject?”

“You could say that.” John leaned up against the counter and ran his hands over his face. “I'm pretty sure I was just completely lied to, but I'm trying to just go with it.”

“Why do you think Bobby lied to you?”

“Because I don't deserve love,” was out of John's mouth before he could stop it, and fuck, that was happening a lot lately. “I mean, I just don't.”

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it definitely wasn't what Bobby was offering.

“So you two finally had _the_ conversation, huh?”

John looked over at him in surprise. “You know about that, Scott?”

“About how you feel, about how Bobby feels, about how Kitty and Jubilee were about to kill you both? Yeah, I know about that.” Scott grabbed a few things off the counter and headed to the refrigerator. “I understand too. Wasn't all that long ago I was in the same position.”

“Huh?”

“I took my time telling Jean how much I cared about her,” Scott said, opening the refrigerator. “And she took her time telling me how much she cared about me. I think Storm was about ready to electrocute us both.”

“I can see her doing that,” John laughed. “How long did you wait?”

“Until after graduation,” Scott said, shaking his head. “I was too scared to even ask her to the school dance. Thought there was no way on earth she could ever want me. And I thought I didn't deserve love anyway.”

John frowned. “Why wouldn't you have deserved love?”

“I didn't grow up in the most wonderful of situations,” Scott said. “My parents weren't exactly the most mutant-friendly people. They had my older brother locked up in solitary confinement because of his. My parents said and did some pretty nasty shit after I manifested.”

“I'm sorry,” John said. “I understand that though.”

“I suspected you would,” Scott said. “But Alex, Alex was great. Always there for me to talk to whenever I started freaking out. I was just lucky that Alex knew of this place. I don't know where I would have went. I don't even want to think of what would have happened to me.”

“How did he know?”

“The Professor,” Scott said, heading back to the counter and pulling more things out of the bags. “He's the one who got Alex out of solitary confinement, actually. Him and Erik.”

“Magneto,” John said automatically.

“Well, yeah, but Alex knew him as Erik,” Scott said, turning to a cabinet. “Alex really liked him before he lost his mind. I learned things from him that I never would have thought about a man like Magneto.”

“And I suppose you're not wanting to share those things with me.”

“I don't mind,” Scott said, looking over at him. “I mean, you spent enough time with the man. You probably deserve to know more about him. But not right now. Right now we're talking about you and Bobby.”

John groaned. “I just don't deserve him. Not after everything I've done. And so why he's trying to convince me that he loves me, I don't know. If he just wanted sex, I'd be fine with that. I'm used to that.”

“Apparently he was very interested in every time you went out looking for someone to have sex with,” Scott said. “He thinks no one knows that he used to go watch you at the clubs, but Alison felt like it was something she should tell us. We've all sort of been waiting for him to realize what that actually meant, what all of his constant questions about what was going on with you really meant. And, once we all figured that out, his continued insistence that you were still Johnny and not only Pyro made a lot more sense.”

John ran his hands over his face, unable to believe he was actually having this discussion with one of his former professors. “Yeah, he told me about that. I don't really know what to make of the fact that he used to come watch me in the clubs, to be honest. The first time he mentioned it, I honestly thought he was interested in hearing Alison sing. But when Alison told me he did it more than once, I just got confused. Of course, that was before he said he was in love with me, but I don't really think he's in love with me.” 

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don't you think he's in love with you?”

“I'm so far removed from the kid that used to be a student here that it's not even quantifiable. I just feel like he doesn't know who I am so how can he possibly know that he's in love with me? And then there's the whole 'I don't deserve love' thing. Jubes keeps telling me I'm wrong about that, but that feeling goes way back before the whole Pyro bullshit, and so that's going to take some time to get over, if I ever do.”

“You do know that you're loved though, don't you?” Scott asked, stopping to look at John. “Because we've been trying to make that very clear.”

“I think it's all bullshit. You don't know me.”

“We know you better than you think.”

“Reading reports about me for five years is not knowing me.”

“So what would knowing you be?” Scott asked, leaning up against the counter.

“It doesn't matter.”

“No, it really does.”

John sighed heavily. “Bobby and I used to know each other. We knew favorite songs and favorite books and favorite mutations that others had and, fuck, we even knew favorite things to fantasize about when we were jerking off. We knew everything about each other. All of that has changed. He doesn't know any of that about me. And neither does anyone else.”

“Well, I'd like to skip the fantasies part of it, but I'd love to know those things, John.” 

“No, you don't.”

“Actually, I do,” Scott said. “Knowing your teammates is very important. You know their tendencies and what they're lik—” 

“Likely to be thinking about during a fight, which allows you to anticipate what they're going to do so you can adjust accordingly.”

Scott smiled. “You still remember that?”

“Of course I remember that,” John said. “I believed it when you told me that. Started studying everyone better. Why do you think I got so much better in our Danger Room sessions?”

Scott laughed. “I think you might be the only one who took that to heart as a teenager then. The rest didn't really realize how much they needed it until Alcatraz.”

John inhaled sharply at that. “Fuck, I hate reminders of that night.”

“I'm sorry,” Scott said. “I know you do.”

“I wanted this, you know,” John said after a moment. “I wanted the place on the team and to be a professor and to stay here forever. I wanted it so bad. This was home. I never wanted to leave home.”

“And then you did.”

“I regretted it the second I got on that helicopter. But I told myself I was doing the right thing and that everything would be better once we got where we were going. But it all just got worse. Much, much worse.”

“Have you talked to Jubilee about that?”

“I'm really sick of being asked that question,” John said, sighing. “I will eventually. We're working through some stuff from my past at the moment, and I know that's going to take awhile.”

“Your father?”

“Yeah,” John said, shaking his head. “The fucking bastard is still ruining my life. But Jubes has asked me not to dwell on what happened and realize that I can't change anything now, and I'm trying, I really am. But fuck, this shit is hard to deal with.”

“I'm glad you have her,” Scott said. “It's always good to have someone to talk to who isn't the Professor. Not that the Professor isn't someone great to talk to, 'cause he is. He helped me a ton. But it's also really hard for the kids here to talk to him about some stuff because he's _the Professor_ , you know? And I think you were probably one of them.”

“Yeah, there is no way I could ever talk to the Professor about this stuff,” John said. “I'm pretty sure he's looked inside my head and seen it all, but I could never have a conversation with him about it.”

“He probably hasn't. He doesn't like to do that without permission.”

“You weren't there the night he found me,” John said quietly. “Trust me, he has.”

“Jean's never told me anything about that night beyond you requiring some medical attention before you entered the school properly, just so you know,” Scott said. “And she never will tell anyone unless you give her permission to. But something tells me you should tell Jubilee about that night.”

“The Professor told me that too,” John murmured. “And I know Jean hasn't told you anything. I trust her. I sure as fuck didn't that night, the Professor either, but I learned to. I learned to trust everyone here. Even you.”

Scott laughed at that. “You hated me.”

“I really didn't,” John said, smiling. “I just didn't like your classes. They were boring as shit.”

“I have been told that on more than one occasion by more than one student. But I don't know any other way to teach.”

“It's the subject,” John said. “No one likes history. We actually had a vote on that when I was fourteen.”

Scott laughed again. “I'll try to keep that in mind. You still want that drink?”

“Fuck yes,” John said. “Probably need it even more now than I did before you came in here.”

Scott crumpled up the bags and stuffed them into the recycle bin. “Come on then, I'll take you to where it is. I'll even make you a Manhattan.”

John perked up at that. “You've got the stuff to make a Manhattan?”

“Ever since you came back,” Scott said, walking out of the kitchen. “I've never tried one.”

“Then you're just going to have to have a drink with me.”

“I can do that.”

 

 

.14

It had been three months since Bobby Drake told John that he loved him. Three months of kisses and caresses and the best sex of his life. But despite the fact that everyone kept trying to tell him this was a good thing, he was completely convinced that it wasn't. He wasn't sure he knew what was happening, but he was going to go with it until its end. And its end was probably going to destroy him, but fuck, what about him wasn't already destroyed?

The main problem they had was that Bobby was still saying how much he loved John and John just couldn't believe it was true. They argued about it often, Bobby for some reason thinking that it was because John _wouldn't_ believe it, like it was some sort of a choice that John was making. He'd tried his best to explain that he wanted to believe Bobby more than anything else in the world, but Bobby wasn't buying into that explanation.

Saint John Allerdyce had no idea what to do.

He was laying on the bed in his room with his eyes closed, just back from a session with Jubilee. It had been a hard session, just like how every session since he'd first brought up his parents had been a hard session, but today he was just done. He was done with therapy, he was done with the mansion, he was done with life itself. It was one of those days where he was tempted to take all of the pills in the bottle his medication was in, just swallow them all down and go to sleep and never wake up again.

But he'd made promises and he'd never have done it anyway. He needed to suffer. And in order to suffer, one must be living.

So instead of thinking about the session with Jubilee, about the admission that his father had molested him, about the fact that he'd never told anyone that ever before and had never planned to until it just came out of his mouth, he was thinking about Bobby. Or, more specifically, his mind was back on that evening three months earlier, on that moment when the words I love you left Bobby's lips, on the fact that for some reason that I love you had been directed at him.

On how that should have been the best moment of his life and it just wasn't.

And that's when he realized that something wasn't working. He thought the therapy might be starting to help, but the medication definitely was not. So he hauled himself off of the bed and downstairs before he could think about it twice. Once he was in the hallway and heading down to the infirmary, John just wanted to pull his hair out.

Was anything ever going to help him feel even remotely normal again?

When he walked in, Jean looked up from where she was talking to the girl with purple hair – _“My name's Francesca, but everyone calls me Frankie.”_ – who was laying there, the side of her face completely bruised, her left arm in a cast. Before John knew what he was doing, he was walking up to her bedside and peering down at her with concern. 

“Frankie, what happened?”

He didn't miss the smile that crossed Jean's face when he said her name, didn't miss the smile that crossed Frankie's face either. He wanted to make some smart remark about how he was capable of remembering people's names, but he didn't. It would probably open up conversations that he didn't want to have, because talking about what he did that day while the X-Men were off fighting the Brotherhood was not something he wanted to do.

“I got in a fight,” Frankie said, shrugging. “It was worth it.”

“A fight?”

“She won't tell us what happened,” Jean said softly, glancing behind her as a machine started beeping. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Jean turned and walked away then, and John sat down on the edge of the bed, wondering how the fuck he'd gotten himself into a situation where Jean had told John he needed to get the answer out of Frankie without actually saying it. “Will you tell me what happened?”

Frankie's shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Only if you promise me you won't get mad.”

“I won't get mad,” John said. “Promise.”

Frankie looked up at him with those violet eyes for a moment before dropping her gaze down to her hands, twisting her fingers around in her lap. “Miles was saying some not so nice stuff about someone and I called him out on it, right? And then he said some more not so nice stuff, and I just...I still don't have the greatest control and it just happened and that made him mad so he lashed out. It was an accident, really. I don't want to be in trouble.”

“Who was Miles talking about?” was the question John chose to ask after that, because he didn't understand how that description was supposed to make him mad. Kids had fights over stupid shit every day.

“You,” Frankie said, her voice low. “He was saying bad things about you.”

John sat there for a moment, in shock over the fact that this little girl felt the need to stand up to someone about _him_. “Me?”

“He said you're a bad person. He said you've done horrible things to people and that no one should feel safe around you. I tried telling him that you wouldn't be allowed to be here if that was the case, but then he called you a murderer and I lost control.”

John's breath caught in his throat. One of the children – Miles, whoever that was – knew who he was. Really knew who he was. And if Miles was around Frankie's age, that meant that he wasn't old enough to know John from when he was a student. 

“How old are you, Frankie?” he forced himself to ask.

“I'm ten.”

“And how old is Miles?”

“Ten.”

Ten. So definitely too young to have known John as a student. 

He forced himself to take a deep breath when Frankie looked up at him, and he realized he was going to have to somehow explain himself to this ten-year-old girl who apparently liked him a lot. “He's not entirely wrong,” he started. “I'm not the best person in the world.”

“My mom says that everyone deserves second chances, even you.”

John studied Frankie for a moment as realization came to him. “You know who I am.”

“Yes.” Frankie ducked her head down again. “When I first saw you around here, I thought you looked like Pyro, because I saw a thing about Pyro on the news once and I saw his picture. And then when you were helping me practice my powers, I asked you what you could do, and you told me...”

“That I can control fire,” John finished, forcing himself to take another deep breath. “And that made you figure it out.”

“It just helped confirm it. I didn't really believe it until then,” Frankie said. “I asked the Professor about you. He said that you didn't want to do what it was you did and that you have apologized and that you deserve a second chance. So when I was telling my mom about how you helped me with my powers, I told her who you were and what the Professor said, and she said that everyone deserves second chances, even you.”

John was absolutely not going to think about the fact that he could feel tears building up in his eyes. Absolutely not. “Does anyone else know who I am?”

Frankie just nodded. “Some of the older kids were happy to tell us once you came back here.”

Of course they were. 

“So why do you think I'm a good guy, hm?” John asked, silently cursing every single student that he had gone to school with.

“You were nice to me,” Frankie said softly. “And you didn't have to be. Professor Drake even told us you might not be. He said you're very sad.”

Of course he had.

“I am very sad,” John admitted. “I don't like what I did. It's hard to live with. But I'm very sorry about it.”

It wasn't until he said that sentence that he realized that he'd never actually apologized for anything he'd done to anyone before. He'd made it clear that he was remorseful, made it clear that he hated himself for what he'd done, but he'd never actually apologized for it before. 

And he had just done that to a ten-year-old girl who knew hardly anything about him.

“I know you are. It's pretty obvious. That's why what Miles said made me so angry. He doesn't even want to give you a chance.”

“I don't deserve one,” John said. “I'm not surprised he feels that way.”

“They don't know you,” Frankie said. “I mean, I know I don't either, but like I said, you didn't have to be nice to me. There's not too many people around here who are nice to me.”

John knew that feeling well. He was pretty certain that when he was student, outside of the group of the six of them, every other person at the school thought he was an asshole.

“But you have a group of friends, right? That's what all those other kids were, right?”

“I have like two friends. The rest of them were just curious about you.”

Of course they were.

“I only had a few friends when I was a student here. There was six of us in total by the time that I left, but for a long time it was just four of us. You happen to know some of my friends very well. They're some of your professors.”

“I know,” Frankie said. “Professor Pryde told me that she cares about you a lot. Same with Professor Rasputin. Professor Drake said you are his best friend. And Miss Jubilee is always telling anyone who will listen stories about you. ”

John felt his throat tighten up. He was absolutely not going to cry in front of a ten-year-old girl. “You talk to them about me?”

“I just wanted to know more about you,” Frankie said, shrugging. “They were happy to talk about it.”

“You're rather inquisitive, aren't you?”

“My mom always says that,” Frankie said, smiling. “She says it's my best attribute.”

“It's a good one to have,” John said. “I'll make you a deal, okay? No more fighting on my behalf and I'll keep helping you practice your powers.”

Frankie's eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes. But you have to tell Jean what happened with Miles.” John leaned in and whispered. “I'll make sure you don't get in trouble.”

“Okay. I promise I won't get into any more fights and I will tell Dr. Grey what happened.”

“Then come find me Saturday afternoon and we'll go outside and practice your powers. Bring your friends if they want to come.”

Frankie grinned at him. “Thanks, Pyro.”

“John,” he corrected. “My name is John.”

Frankie nodded. “Okay, John.”

“John,” came Jean's voice and he stood up.

“I'll see you Saturday, Frankie,” he said before walking over to where Jean was standing.

“That was a good thing you just did,” Jean said, smiling at him. 

“Yeah, well, I have a whole lot to think about now thanks to her. Was anyone ever going to tell me that all the kids know who I am?”

“The Professor thought it was best for you to learn that on your own. He thought it would do you some good.”

“To find out that any student here could sell me out at any moment? That's supposed to do me some good?”

Jean shook her head. “What's supposed to do you some good is to realize you've been here for nine months, they all know who you are, and no one _has_ sold you out. And no one will either.”

“I don't believe that for a second,” John said firmly. “But that's not why I came down here.”

“The medication isn't working.”

“Did you get that out of my head?”

“No,” Jean said seriously. “I guessed it based upon the bottle in your hand. I only gave you a refill on that a week ago. It's not time for another.”

John looked down and saw he had the bottle in his hand, then wondered how the fuck he didn't notice that he'd brought it with him. “Oh.”

“I would think that the next step would be doubling it,” Jean said. “That's the next recommended dose increase.”

John thought about the haze that would settle in until he got used to it, thought about everything he was talking to Jubilee about, and then he thought about Bobby. He thought about how he couldn't believe what Bobby was saying to him when he said he loved him. And then he thought about what he had to do to change that.

What he had to do to actually believe that he was loved.

“I think that sounds like a plan, Jean. Do I just need to take two of these or what?”


	8. Chapter 8

.15

John was laying on his bed when Bobby came into the room and Bobby climbed onto it, settling himself in John's embrace. John let a hand come up to play with Bobby's hair; Bobby pressed a kiss to John's neck. The silence was comfortable, everything that silences between them used to be, everything that John had thought silences between them could never be again.

And then Bobby started talking and ruined it.

“Have you made any progress on your problem?”

John sighed heavily. “I wish you'd stop calling it my problem.”

“Well it's certainly not my problem,” Bobby said. “It's been five months, Johnny. And I don't think you realize how much it hurts me to know every time I say I love you that you don't believe me.”

John swallowed hard as that thought went through his mind. He'd never even thought about that. “You're right. I don't. I'm not trying to hurt you though. Hurting you is the last fucking thing in the world I want to do. I've already done ten lifetimes worth of that.”

“Johnny.”

“What? It's the truth.” John took a deep breath and continued. “Look, I'm going to be completely honest here and it's probably going to hurt you more and for that I'm sorry. But I have waited the better part of a decade to hear you say that you loved me. A decade, Bobby. I have wanted absolutely nothing in life more than to have you say those three words and to direct them at me. And then you said them and it should have been the best moment of my existence and it just wasn't.”

“It wasn't?” Bobby asked, his voice small and hurt.

Saint John Allerdyce motherfucking hated himself for making Bobby Drake feel that way.

“No, it wasn't. But that is not a reflection on you in any way, shape, or form. You're perfect, Bobby. I'm the one who is fucked up. This is all me. None of it is you.”

“I just start thinking about things, you know?” Bobby said after a few moments. “About how much I hurt you when we were kids. About how if I'd just figured out how I felt about you sooner, you never would have left and you never would have had to go through what you went through. You wouldn't be going through what you're going through now. It's all my fault.”

John grasped Bobby's head and turned it so they were looking at each other. “Listen to me, Robert Drake. None of this, and I mean not a motherfucking detail of it, is your fault. None of it.”

“But it is.”

“No, it really isn't,” John said firmly. “I could have told you I loved you ten million times when we were kids but I never did. I made the decisions I made. I did the things I did. None of it is your fault.”

“I'm never going to believe that.”

“So you can feel like that but I'm not allowed to be struggling with believing you? That's fucking bullshit.”

Bobby sighed and buried his head in John's neck. “That did not come out right.”

John let his head rest against Bobby's. “I want to believe it more than anything in the world,” he whispered. “I just don't deserve your love. That's why I can't.”

“You don't know what you deserve, Johnny.”

“Maybe not. But I'm working on it. I am.”

“How did your session with Jubes go?”

“She wants to kill me again, I can tell.”

“Over what?”

“Over you. She ended the session today by telling me that if I fuck things up with you she's going to castrate me.”

“She's not actually going to do that.”

“It's Jubes,” John said, laughing. “I wouldn't be so sure of that.”

Bobby laughed as well. “True. But you belong to me, Johnny. I won't let you fuck this up.”

“Not even if I never get over my problem as you so elegantly put it?”

“Not even then,” Bobby murmured. “I'll just get over it.”

“No, you won't.”

“I think it's probably very fair if that happens.”

“Fair?”

“I think it's right for me to be hurt because I did a lot of stuff to hurt you.”

“Fuck, Bobby,” John said, threading his fingers into the back of Bobby's hair. “You do not deserve to be hurt just because I didn't tell you about a childhood crush.”

“It was a lot more than a childhood crush.”

“Yes,” John said. “It was. Still doesn't mean you deserve to be hurt.”

“I told her, you know,” Bobby said, moving around until he was pulling at John's shirt's neckline and pressing kisses to his collarbone.

“Told who what?”

“Rogue.”

“You told Rogue what?”

“About everything,” Bobby mumbled into John's skin. “How you feel about me, how long you have, why you left. How I feel about you and that I always have, I just didn't realize it. Everything.”

“Fuck,” John said, letting his head fall back, giving Bobby better access to his neck. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought she deserved to know. She hurt you too. She was very upset about that, by the way.”

“She was?”

Bobby reached out and smacked John's shoulder. “Of course she was. She said that's the last thing in the world she wanted to do. She liked you a lot, you know.”

John sighed as memories of their teenage years came to mind. “Yeah, I know. And I liked her a lot too. I still hate myself over what I said to you about her at that clinic. She was never pathetic.”

“I left that part out when I told her about seeing you at the clinic that day,” Bobby said, nipping at the base of John's neck. “I didn't think she needed to know that.”

“Good, because she'd probably take her gloves off if she ever saw me again if she knew that.”

“You are going to see her again.”

John looked down at him. “Excuse me?”

“Kitty invited her and Gambit to the wedding and they're going to come. So you'll see her again.”

“Who the fuck is Gambit?”

“The guy she's living with down in New Orleans,” Bobby said, lifting his head to look up at him. “You've got nothing to worry about, Johnny. Nothing's going to happen to you.”

“That's not exactly what I'm worried about.”

Bobby just rolled his eyes. “She's not going to take me away from you. That ship has long sailed. Rogue and I are nothing more than good friends and we've both realized that that's all we really ever were.”

John swallowed hard at the look in Bobby's eyes. He wanted to believe what was reflected in them. He wanted to believe it so, so much. “So I'm not supposed to be jealous?”

“Be jealous of Gambit's powers if you want to be jealous,” Bobby said, resuming his attention on John's neck. “The guy can create kinetic energy, for fuck's sake. It's pretty fucking cool.”

John went to argue but then realized that did sound pretty cool. “Yours are better.”

“I don't know about that.”

“Ours are perfect for each other. Always have been.”

Bobby lifted his head again and studied John for a moment. “Be honest with me.”

“I try to always be.”

“When did you fall in love with me? And I mean really, not this better part of a decade bullshit.”

John sighed heavily. “I don't think I can actually answer that. I just woke up one morning when we were thirteen, went down to breakfast, looked at you across the table, and realized you were my world. But it had probably been awhile since it had actually happened.”

“Thirteen?”

“Yes.”

“You weren't kidding about the decade thing. We're almost twenty-four.” Bobby put his head down on John's chest. “I'm so sorry, Johnny. You waited so long for me.”

“It's okay, Bobby,” John soothed. “I never thought I was ever going to get this. The fact that I have it now makes up for all of it.”

“But you still don't believe that I love you.”

“I'm trying to. More than I can put into words.”

Bobby took a deep breath and then brought their lips together, and John melted. Bobby knew exactly how to kiss him to make him go weak and he really should have been concerned about that but for the fact that he enjoyed it so fucking much.

“I'm free for the rest of the day,” Bobby said into the kiss. “So I thought maybe you'd want to have a little fun.”

John groaned as Bobby's hands slid underneath his t-shirt, his cool touch something that John was quickly becoming addicted to. “I think that sounds like a fantastic idea.”

Bobby broke the kiss and gave John a wicked grin. “Then lay back and enjoy, okay?”

“Hm?”

Bobby started trailing kisses down John's chest, and once John realized what Bobby was going to do, his eyes rolled back into his head. John didn't like to think about how Bobby learned to suck cock, but he certainly did enjoy the results of that teaching.

Bobby Drake was going to kill him one of these days. But not in the way he'd ever expected him to.

 

 

.16

John exited the elevator downstairs to find Piotr standing there waiting for him. “Got your message. What's up?”

“Hank and I need to talk to you,” Piotr said, motioning for John to follow him. “There's something you need to know about.”

“That doesn't sound good.”

“Well, that's because it's not,” Piotr said, walking through a door and waiting until John was inside before locking it behind them. “The Brotherhood is looking for you.”

“I already knew that.”

“Yeah, but they decided it would be a good idea to have other people looking for you too,” Piotr said, walking over to where Hank was in front of some screens. “Bobby said we shouldn't show you this, but everyone else decided it was best for you to see it.”

“Show me what?”

Hank stood up and pointed to one of the screens. “Watch that one.”

John just nodded and suddenly the screen was showing a building. “What is this?”

“It's a federal building in North Carolina. Just keep watching,” Hank said.

John kept his eyes on the screen, and the moment the bomb went off, he snapped them shut. “No. No, no, no, no, no. Tell me that is not what I think it is.”

“We don't know who did it, only that it was the Brotherhood,” Piotr said after a moment. “What we do know is that Pyro is the main suspect.”

John reached for the chair that Hank had been sitting in and collapsed down into it, burying his face in his hands. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“The government has been in contact with us,” Piotr said. “They want us to help with their search for Pyro.”

“And so this is the part where you tell me you're going to hand me over, right?” John asked shakily.

“We're not handing you over to anyone,” Hank said seriously. “You didn't do anything.”

“But they think I did.”

“Yes,” Hank said, sighing. “Look, I hate to be blunt with this but time is critical. The conversation we've been having has come to the conclusion that we should tell the government that a search for Pyro isn't necessary because of the fact that you're right here with us.”

“WHAT?” John yelled, looking up. “They'll be beating down the door trying to arrest me!”

“We have a good enough relationship with them that we think a compromise can be reached,” Hank said. “That compromise would require your cooperation, however.”

“Cooperation?”

“There would most likely be an interview with government officials,” Piotr said. “They would ask you a bunch of questions and you would need to provide all the information you have on the Brotherhood.”

John couldn't believe this was happening. His head was spinning. “I don't know anything about the Brotherhood anymore. It's been almost six years.”

“Yes, it has been, but the organizational structure is likely still the same. You know their communication channels, you know their safehouses, you know lots of things that I know the government doesn't know just based on the little bit you've told us,” Hank said. “You know a lot, John. And every bit of it could be vital to bringing the Brotherhood down for good and for making sure things like this explosion don't happen again.”

John swallowed hard. “Can't they get this information from Raven?”

“Raven has given up all the information that she has,” Piotr said. “But you have mentioned some things that she says she didn't know.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the money,” Hank said. “Raven always knew he had money, always was given whatever she needed, but she never knew where he got it. You have mentioned that you know where that is.”

John ran his hands through his hair. “When did I tell you that? I don't remember doing that.”

“Two weeks after you came home,” Piotr said simply. “You mentioned it to me during one of our poker games.”

John forced himself to take a deep breath. “Fuck. If you get his money cut off, he'll know the information came from me. He'll be after me even more after that.”

“I know,” Hank said. “But we will protect you.”

John brought his eyes back up to the screen, staring at the image of the burning building. “How many people died?”

Piotr sighed. “John...”

“Just tell me how many people died. Please.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then Hank spoke. “A hundred and thirty-two.”

John felt like someone had just shot him in the heart. “A hundred and thirty-two?”

“One hundred and three adults,” Piotr said softly. “Twenty-nine children.”

John's breath caught in his throat. “Children,” he barely got out. “Twenty-nine children.”

“There was a daycare for employees on the ground floor,” Piotr said. “He didn't care who the casualties were, just that there were numerous.”

John sat there for a few moments as all that information swirled around in his head. Children. Children were dead. And if they'd been in a daycare, they were probably young children too. Toddlers. Maybe even some babies.

He'd always made sure that there was never a child who was a casualty of his actions. He could barely live with himself as it was; he knew he'd never have been able to if he'd killed an innocent child.

“At the...at the hospital I...” John cut himself off to take a couple of deep breaths. “I didn't firebomb the floor with the...I tried to argue with him that they were just kids, that they didn't deserve it, but he said they were nothing more than casualties of war. I have a huge scar on my back from how angry he was when I didn't. And now...and they're blaming it on me. People are going to think that I did this.”

“But you didn't,” Piotr stressed. “You didn't do this, John.”

Hank pulled another chair up next to John's and sat down, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “I know that talking about your time in the Brotherhood is incredibly difficult for you for reasons that no one in this house can even begin to understand. But if we are ever going to stop him from doing this again, we need you to talk about it.”

John didn't say anything, so Hank continued. “I'll get you the same deal Raven got. Total immunity in exchange for all of your information. I will make sure that you won't be arrested before I so much as mention that I know where you are. I can frame it that Pyro is a former student of this school and that we may be able to persuade him to give up everything he knows. I swear to God, John, I will not put you in any sort of situation where they can come knock down these doors and take you away.”

When John still didn't say anything, Piotr crouched down in front of him. “We need your help, John. Your help is the only way we can stop him.”

“I can't,” John started, pausing to swallow hard. “I can't talk about what he did to me. I've already lied to Bobby and everyone else about it. I just can't talk about it.”

“I wouldn't expect you to,” Hank said softly. “But if you could talk about the rest of it, that would be more helpful than you could possibly imagine.”

John brought his gaze back to the screen, watching it in silence for a few minutes before nodding. “If you can make sure I won't be arrested, I'll tell them everything I know.”

Piotr sighed with relief as Hank nodded. “They will not hear a single thing about where you are until I know I have immunity for you.”

“He's going to work out that I'm here, you know. And then no one in this school will be safe.”

“I feel a great swell of pity for the poor soul who comes to my school looking for trouble,” Hank murmured. “Charles said that to me once and I agree with him. Anyone who comes here looking for trouble is going to regret it. If they work out that you're here and they come for you, they won't know what hit them.”

John looked down at his hands and realized they were shaking. “I don't want anyone to fight on my behalf.”

“We wouldn't be,” Piotr said firmly. “We would be fighting for a hell of a lot more than just you.”

“I wouldn't be able to help. Especially if he was here. I can't ever see him again or I will completely fall apart.”

“John, I know that this is still hard for you,” Piotr said. “But trust us. Trust us like you used to. We won't let anything happen to you.”

John stared at Piotr for a moment before nodding. “I have no choice but to.”

“Thank you,” Piotr said, giving him a smile. “You're doing the right thing, John.”

“Piotr's right about that,” Hank said, standing up. “You're doing the right thing.”

John took a shuddering breath and nodded. “I know. Doesn't make it easy though. Nothing is easy anymore.”

“Well, if you can help us stop the Brotherhood once and for all, maybe things will start to get easier,” Piotr said. 

“I'll have an answer for you soon, John,” Hank said as he walked out of the room. 

Piotr studied him for a moment. “Jubilee has the hour free if you want to go talk to her.”

“I think that's probably a good idea,” John murmured.

“Come on,” Piotr said. “I'll walk you up there.”

“Because I'm not trusted to do it myself.”

“Because I think you're going to collapse at any moment,” Piotr said seriously. “You are trusted around here, John. More than I think you even realize.”

John took a deep breath and looked back at the screen one more time. “Children,” he whispered. “Twenty-nine children.”

“You can't dwell on this, John.”

“Dwelling on things is what I do best, Piotr.”


	9. Chapter 9

.17

John was sitting in the gazebo when Storm came and sat down next to him. He didn't need to ask why she was there, didn't need to ask why she was the one who came to talk to him. He knew by that point that conversations were going on about what John had agreed to downstairs, and he knew that everyone in that mansion was aware of the fact that Storm was probably going to be the only one out of them who could get him to talk.

He'd sat in Jubilee's office for almost an hour rambling about stuff that had absolutely nothing to do with what was going through his head. He knew she was frustrated with him, but there were so many thoughts racing through his mind that he didn't know how to even make sense of them. 

By the time this interview with the government was done, Magneto was going to know he was there. Like, really know he was there. Not suspect he was there, not think it could be a possibility. He was going to actually know it to be fact. 

Saint John Allerdyce wasn't safe anymore.

He wondered when he'd started to think that he was.

“You want to talk about it? Or do you just want to sit here?”

It was things like that which had made John open up to Storm when he was a student. She didn't always make him talk. Sometimes she just knew that all he needed was someone who cared about him close to him. Sometimes she just knew that what he needed was to feel loved.

But he didn't deserve that love anymore, so he just wasn't going to think about how much he missed it.

“I don't know if I can do this,” was what he finally said about five minutes later, and Storm put a hand on his shoulder.

“You can do anything,” Storm said softly. “You're a very strong and capable individual.”

“I can't,” John started, pausing to force a sob back down. “I can't talk about what I went through. The organizational stuff, yes. But if they ask me about the abuse, I just can't.”

“Have you talked to anybody about it yet?”

“You all already know,” John murmured. “Jean told me you did. Raven confirmed it for me in an email.”

“Us already knowing about it does not mean that you shouldn't talk about it,” Storm said seriously. “We don't know everything about it. We don't know how it made you feel, though I think those of us who know a bit about your father have some ideas about that.”

John shuddered at the memory. “I'd rather face my father again than him.”

“You're not going to have to face him again, John.”

“The minute I do this interview, the minute they cut off his money because I know that I know enough to make them do that, the minute that happens, he's going to know I'm here. And then he'll come for me.”

“And he won't get to you. We won't let that happen.”

“He's a sadistic motherfucker, Storm. He'll kill all of you. And I don't want anybody else to die because of me.”

Storm reached out and pulled John into a hug. “No one is going to die. I promise.”

“You can't promise me that.”

“Alright, maybe I can't. But John, if he comes here looking for you, we'd be fighting for a lot more than just you. There's all the students to protect too.”

John swallowed hard as that thought hit him. “He'll kill all of them too. He has no conscience. Not anymore.”

“He's not going to kill anyone,” Storm said again. “You can't think about this, John. It's going to consume you before you even know it's going to happen.”

“No, I know it's going to happen,” John mumbled. “I know him better than any of you.”

“I know you do. We all do. And that's why we're all so glad you've agreed to do this interview. You have information that may be key in stopping him once and for all.”

“I'm only doing this so I don't have any more deaths on my conscience,” John said. “I already have to add a hundred and thirty-two names to that list.”

“You didn't kill them, John.”

“Maybe not. But they're dead because of me.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Storm ran a soothing hand down John's back. “Bobby's beside himself.”

“Why?”

“He's worried about you. He's angry with us. He was against us even mentioning that this happened to you. He's afraid about how far it's going to set you back.”

“I needed to know,” John said softly. “And if I'd found that out on my own and realized that you'd kept it from me...”

“You would have run,” Storm finished. “We know you better than you think we do.”

“Sometimes I catch myself thinking about how nice it is to have people who care about me around again. And then I feel like shit about it because I can't believe that you actually do.”

“Maybe you really do and you just want to deny it because you still think you deserve to suffer.”

John let out a small laugh. “That's what Jubes said. She's not happy with me.”

“Why?”

“She thinks I'm not trying hard enough, I think. But I'm trying as hard as I can without breaking completely. I don't think I can handle breaking completely.”

“Maybe that's what needs to happen,” Storm said gently. “Maybe the only way to make you whole again is to finish off the cracks and rebuild.”

John had never thought about it like that. “Maybe. Still not sure I can do it though.”

“Think about it, maybe? Talk to Jubilee about it too.”

John just nodded. “I know I'm doing the right thing, Storm. So why does it feel like the worst thing in the world?”

“Because what you went through was horrific. And it's going to be absolutely terrible to relive it.”

John swallowed hard. “Do you think they'd go for it if I asked if someone could be in the room with me? Because I'm not sure I can do this alone.”

“I think that's a very reasonable request. Who would you want in there with you?”

John thought about it for a moment. “Jubes. She already knows a lot and I trust her not to tell anyone about what she learns in there. She's always kept anything I tell her of any importance to herself, even when we were kids.”

“Do you want me to talk to Hank about that for you?”

John nodded. “Thanks, Storm.”

“John,” Storm said, making him look up at her. “I know this is probably going to be the hardest thing you've ever done, but we're all going to be here for you once it's over.”

“I know,” John whispered, tears coming to his eyes. “And that makes the fact that I can't believe that you care about me even worse. Because it's obvious, it's so fucking obvious, that you all do. But it's like with Bobby. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. But there's just this voice in the back of my head that screams at me that it's all a lie. And I want that voice to go away so badly.”

“We know,” Storm said, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. “And we're going to be here for you every step of the way. Even if it takes years. We love you, John. We're so happy you're here. Now more than ever.”

John sniffled as more tears started rolling down his cheeks. “I'm not safe here. No one here is safe anymore.”

“Listen to me, okay? You are safe here. Everyone in that mansion is safe. We have been prepared for a long time for an attack on this place. We know what we need to do to protect everyone inside that house. No one is going to get to you or any of the children. I promise you that.”

John stared at her for a moment before nodding. “I'll try to believe that.”

“That's all I can ask you to do,” Storm said, giving him a smile. “Your friend Frankie is worried about you.”

John couldn't help but smile. “I don't know why she likes me so much.”

“Because you're a very easy guy to like. Always have been.”

“Don't bullshit me, Storm. Most of the mansion hated me.”

“Most of the mansion didn't know you,” Storm pointed out. “Those you allowed to get to know you liked you from the start and loved you soon after. And I mean soon after. It didn't take much for any of us to get there.”

John just shook his head. “I will never understand that. I was so fucked up when I got here. I'm so fucked up now. I'm not worth any of this. I'm not worth the risks you all are taking.”

“You just have to trust us then. Because we know you're worth all this, even if you do not.” Storm looked up when she heard someone coming down the path. “Guess the students' break has started.”

John glanced up and then immediately wiped his eyes, standing up and running his hands over his face. “Fuck. I don't want anyone to see me like this.”

“Don't worry,” Storm said. “No one is going to.”

“I don't see how that's possible.”

“You've run back to the mansion when there's been a big storm before, right?”

John turned to look at Storm and saw her white eyes, smiling. “You don't have to do this.”

“Yes, I do. They'll run so they don't get wet. When they're gone, we'll head inside.”

 

 

.18

Bobby was waiting for John outside of the classroom that had been re-purposed into an interrogation room when the interview came to an end, but John walked right past him and towards the elevator. He needed to be in his room before he said a single word because he was pretty sure that at that moment he couldn't. He had just spent the better part of thirteen hours talking about the worst years of his life, about the horrible things that he'd done, and all he felt he could do was cry.

And he definitely wasn't doing that anywhere but inside his room.

The government officials had questions that John had somehow thought the answers to were already well known and they had questions that John didn't realize he had the answers to until they'd been asked. He told them everything he knew about every member of the Brotherhood's leadership, every location of every hideout and safehouse, every code word in every communication channel, every bank account in every country.

He could even still rattle off all the account numbers.

He told them everything he knew about Magneto too. He included the stuff that Scott had told him his brother had learned about Erik, told them every bit of the thought process on how to choose a target that he'd been able to decipher, and everything in between. He mentioned the abuse he took without thinking, but John would be eternally grateful that they didn't ask him to expand upon that too much. 

He didn't think he could relive that for a bunch of government officials sitting there with a tape recorder and a couple of notepads, even with Jubilee there as he had requested.

Jubilee had held his hand throughout the entire interview, squeezing it gently whenever the questions veered towards something she knew was particularly difficult for him, whispering words of encouragement when she could tell that John was struggling to talk. He knew that she had a newfound insight into what his life had been like, knew that she probably had a billion questions ready to ask in their next session. If the interview had done anything, it had shown her just how much John really needed that therapy. But he also knew that she'd never talk to anyone about anything she'd heard in that room, and John had never been happier in his life to have Jubilation Lee as a friend. 

He really needed to tell her that sometime soon.

Bobby caught up to John at the elevator and got into it with him, and then they headed upstairs in silence. John thought he probably looked like death warmed over because that was how he felt, completely hollow inside and as if nothing would ever fill him again. The horrible absence of emotions that he'd gotten used to in the Brotherhood had overtaken him again and he wanted nothing more than for feelings of some kind, any kind, to spread through him again.

When they got to his room, John toed off his shoes and reached for the anxiety medication he'd gotten from Jean a few days earlier, taking a couple of the pills with some water before he turned around. Bobby was standing there, a concerned look on his face, and John just motioned to the bed. Bobby laid down and John crawled into his embrace, burying his head in Bobby's neck and just staying there for awhile. 

“I never want to do that again,” he finally whispered, and Bobby's arms tightened around him.

“You won't have to,” Bobby said softly. “And I know you hated every second of that, but it was so important. You did such a good thing by doing it.”

“I knew more than I thought I did,” John murmured. “I think I had suppressed a lot of it.”

“That's good. The more information you were able to give them, the easier it will be to stop them.”

“I know that the first thing they're going to do is cut off his money. And all that's going to do is infuriate him.”

“We'll protect you, Johnny. I'll protect you.”

John swallowed hard. “I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you. And if it was at his hands...”

“Nothing's going to happen to me,” Bobby soothed. “I'll always be right here.”

John just nodded and they fell back into silence. Sometimes in Bobby's presence John thought about that very first day he'd been shown to a room. It had been about six o'clock in the evening and Bobby had looked up from homework as soon as they'd walked in. Scott had explained to Bobby that he had a roommate while Jean had sat down next to John on the bed meant for him and quietly told him that everything was going to be okay now. 

John had instantly been comfortable with him. Bobby stayed up talking with John until the sun was creeping in through the window, led him down to the cafeteria for breakfast because he knew John didn't know where it was, and motioned for John to sit with him at the table that would become theirs when he knew John didn't know where to go. 

Looking back on it now, John was almost convinced that was the day when he fell in love with Bobby Drake. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Bobby asked softly, breaking John from his thoughts. “And you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I'm just curious.”

John swallowed hard. “Sure.”

“Why did you know where the money came from but Raven didn't?”

Of course he'd ask that.

“I was good at logistics,” John said after a couple of minutes. “How many people were at the target at certain points in the day so we could figure out the best time to hit it, how many mutants would be needed for the job, that sort of stuff. He didn't like me but he liked my skills. He liked my skills a lot. He told me the money thing was a reward for a job well done after a particularly big attack. I'd done such a good job and he knew how committed I was to the cause. I was so glad there were no telepaths around at that moment because all I could think about was how much I wasn't. 

“He told me that he'd never trusted anyone with the money situation before. I asked him why he was trusting me with it and he said the duties needed to be passed to someone with exceptional organizational skills. My attention to detail when it came to logistics was what made him decide I was the person for that. He knew that I would monitor every single penny and make sure it was spent exactly how it should be. And I did. I did exactly what he asked. I also lived off some of that money once I ran because I knew that no one would know that some of it was missing. That's how I paid for the classes I took. That's how I paid my rent. It certainly wasn't because I made enough money to live in a place like that.”

“That's where all that cash Piotr found in your apartment came from,” Bobby said with realization. “The Brotherhood.”

“I was too scared to keep it in a bank account,” John said. “I had a bank account so that I could do the wire transfers, but I'd always get the money in cash once the transfers had been completed. I think they probably thought something shady was going on, but no one ever called me on it and I didn't do it often. About twice a year. I'd just done one two weeks before Kitty and Piotr showed up. That's why there was so much cash.”

“There was close to ten thousand dollars.”

“I know,” John whispered. “I know.”

John pulled back after a moment and looked at Bobby before crashing their lips together. Bobby kissed him back just as hard and John savored the fact that he got to do this, that he even knew what it felt like. He'd wanted it for so long that he still couldn't believe that he had it.

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved though and it still wasn't the man next to him. 

Except maybe he did. Maybe he'd turned the corner enough to realize that Bobby wasn't going anywhere, that this was real and going to last, and that if Bobby wanted to be with him there was a reason for that. Maybe that reason was that Bobby really did love him. And maybe, just maybe, he'd reached the point where he believed that it was because he was deserving of that love. 

Or maybe not.

John broke the kiss and sat up, reaching for his shirt and pulling it up and over his head. Bobby's cool hands were on his skin almost immediately, and John pushed Bobby onto his back and climbed on top of him. Bobby went along with it for a few minutes, but John groaned loudly when Bobby stopped them.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bobby asked softly, and John could understand why he was asking it.

But Saint John Allerdyce needed to drown for awhile and there was no one on the planet that he'd rather drown in than Bobby Drake.

“I just need my mind off of all of this,” John said. “This is the only thing that will do that.”

Bobby stared at him for a moment before pushing John onto his back and rolling on top of him, and John just closed his eyes and enjoyed every fucking second of it.


	10. Chapter 10

.19

John was outside helping Frankie and her friends with their powers when Charles came down the path towards them, and John could tell by the look on his face that something had happened. “Professor.”

The kids turned and looked at him, and Charles smiled at them. “I need to talk to John for awhile okay? I'm sure he'll be happy to resume this with you tomorrow.”

They turned and looked at John, and he just nodded. “Tomorrow is fine.”

“Okay.” Frankie walked over to John, wrapping her arms around him for a moment before turning to leave. “Thanks, John! See you tomorrow!”

John stood there in shock as Frankie and the rest of the kids walked away, swallowing hard when he realized that Charles was watching him. “She's never done that before.”

“She can tell you're worried,” Charles said. “She cannot only do energy projections. She is an empath as well.”

“She's never mentioned that before.”

“She doesn't like to tell people who don't know. The kids that do tend to stay away from her. It's not that unlike how a telepath is treated. They don't like her knowing what she knows. She is afraid that you wouldn't want to be around her anymore if you knew.”

John just shook his head. “I don't know how that kid got so attached to me.”

“The reasons why are not important,” Charles said. “What is important is that you are attached to her as well.”

“I know I shouldn't be spending time with them but...” John paused. “They're innocents. They remind me of how life should be instead of how life is for me. Frankie seems to get that without me saying anything. Probably because of the empath thing.”

“She could feel the sadness radiating off you in waves. That is why she sought out all of us to confirm that you were a good person instead of the man she'd seen on the news and heard so much about here. She couldn't believe that someone who wanted to hurt people would be so sad about it.”

“She's a smart kid,” John said, running his hands through his hair. “You're not here to talk to me about Frankie though.”

“No,” Charles said. “There's something downstairs that I'd like you to see.”

John just nodded and followed Charles into the house and the elevator, forcing himself to take a deep breath as they headed downstairs. Once there, Charles led him into the same room that Piotr and Hank had talked to him in, and he swallowed hard. 

“Please tell me they didn't bomb another building.”

“No, they have not,” Charles said, picking up a remote and pointing it towards a machine. “There was an FBI press conference a few minutes ago. You need to hear what they had to say.”

“I need to watch an FBI press conference? About what?”

“About the bombing in North Carolina,” Charles said, turning the volume up. “They were asked about Pyro.”

“Fuck,” John murmured, grabbing a chair and sitting down. “You're sure I need to hear this?”

“Yes,” Charles said, pressing the button to make it start playing. 

John listened as the agent giving the briefing gave some sort of an answer to a question he hadn't heard, and then he heard the question that he guessed Charles had been referring to.

_“Can you give us any updates on the manhunt for Pyro?”_

_“There is no longer a manhunt for Pyro. Next question.”_

_“Why is there no longer a manhunt for Pyro? He was identified as the prime suspect.”_

_“Pyro is no longer considered a suspect in this case. Next question.”_

_“Why is Pyro no longer considered a suspect?”_

_“We have received information that rules him out as a suspect. Next question.”_

_“What information have you received that ruled Pyro out?”_

_“I cannot talk about that. Next question.”_

_“Are you aware of Pyro's whereabouts currently?”_

_“Yes, we are. Next question.”_

_“Is Pyro's arrest imminent?”_

_“No arrest warrant has been or will be issued for Pyro. Next question.”_

Charles paused the video and John sat there for a moment as that sank in. “They'll know I talked to them,” was what he finally said. “The people that interviewed me, they said it would probably be a week before they could freeze the money.”

Charles just nodded. “I would be incredibly surprised if they did not.”

“So they'll probably know where I am now too.”

“Most likely.”

“I should leave.”

“No. I will not let you leave.”

“The children are in danger because of me.”

“The children are not in danger,” Charles said seriously. “They cannot get to the children.”

John blinked as he tried to process what he was feeling. “But they'll come for me.”

“We know. But we are prepared for that.”

“How can you possibly be prepared for that? The Brotherhood will outnumber you. By a lot. He won't just attack this place with only a few people.”

“There are government forces on standby near here. All it will take is one alert and they'll be helicoptered in,” Charles said. “We will have plenty of backup for when they arrive.”

“The government is going to help protect me?”

“The government is going to participate in this so that they can hopefully capture Erik and most of the Brotherhood's leadership,” Charles said. “That, to them, is the main objective. The main objective for us is to protect you and the children. Both parties are aware of the other's objectives and that is why this agreement was reached.”

John shook his head. “I'm not worth all of this.”

“You are worth everything,” Charles stressed. “Every student who has ever walked through these doors is worth something, John. You are no exception to that.”

“Every student who has walked through these doors hasn't done what I have.”

“No, they have not. However, there are many who have. Perhaps not to the number, but there are many who have. Not everyone who attends school here is a good person, John. Many see the need to use their powers in different ways.”

“Different ways?”

Charles sighed. “I have been called upon to be a character witness at many trials throughout the years when one of my former students has done something terrible. I must say, I think my testimony often helps the prosecution more than the defense, but lawyers keep calling me in anyway.”

John let out a small laugh. “You spill their school secrets.”

“Well, I am asked to swear not to lie,” Charles said, a smile on his face. “Everything is going to be okay, John.”

“I don't see how that is possible, Professor.”

“Trust us,” Charles said seriously. “Trust me like you used to.”

John took a deep breath. “I'm trying. I really am.”

“I know you are. But there's going to reach a point where you just have to do it instead of think about it. And that point might be rapidly approaching. I don't know how long it's going to take for them to plan this attack.”

“Awhile,” John said after a moment. “There was no one in the Brotherhood who could do logistics like I could. Probably still isn't.”

“Then we have awhile to prepare and you have awhile to realize that you do trust us,” Charles said. “But we're all going down to the Danger Room tonight to start preparing. It might be awhile or Erik might be so angry that they'll attack without much thought.”

John nodded. “You might be right about that. He did always get particularly angry when it came to me.”

“I'm sorry that he ever laid a hand on you, John.”

“He didn't,” John murmured. “He just manipulated the metal that did.”

“And that, by extension, is him laying a hand on you,” Charles said. “Come on, let's go back upstairs and get you a Manhattan.”

“You think I need a drink after that?”

“Well, I certainly need one,” Charles said, heading towards the door. “I prefer scotch straight up but I'd be willing to try your favorite if you try mine.”

“I will do that. You know, Scott likes a Manhattan now,” John said, following him. “We have a drink together every Wednesday night.”

“I know,” Charles said. “And you don't understand the importance of that.”

“No, Professor, I actually think I do. It means I'm getting more comfortable. It's taken me a year, but I'm getting more comfortable.”

Charles just smiled. “I am so glad to hear you say that.”

“Well, it was bound to happen at some point.”

“Yes, yes it was,” Charles said. “I think perhaps Bobby has helped with that.”

“Probably. Still can't believe that's happening.”

“I think it's wonderful,” Charles said, coming to a stop by the elevator. “John, do try not to dwell on the fact that they know where you are. I know it's what you do, but I don't want you to take a step backward.”

“I'll try, Professor. I promise.”

 

 

.20

It had been a month since the Brotherhood bombed that federal building, but that didn't mean John had forgotten about it. Instead it stayed on his mind all of the time, trying to come to terms with what had happened in an attempt to draw him out. There were one hundred and thirty-two more names to add to the list that he already had. He spent time one afternoon writing their names in his notebook, the notebook full of the names of everyone he'd ever killed.

He might not have physically been the one who killed them, but he was the reason they were dead.

“You're not listening to me again.”

John drew himself out of his thoughts and focused on where Jubilee was leaning against the balcony's railing next to him. “Sorry.”

“You know that I'm worried about you, right?”

“You've been worried about me since the moment I walked back into this place,” John pointed out. 

“Well, yeah, but this is different,” Jubilee said. “You're reminding me of how you were right before you left.”

“I'm not going to leave,” John said. “They'd just find me faster if I did.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

John sighed heavily. “I'm not worth all of this.”

“You are not allowed to talk about yourself like that,” Jubilee said firmly. “I thought I made that very clear to you in session.”

“You did,” John said. “Doesn't mean I still don't think it.”

Jubilee wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tighter when John squirmed. “Oh, Johnny.”

“Fuck off,” John murmured.

“Not going to happen,” Jubilee said, putting her chin on his shoulder. “You don't know your own worth you know. You never have.”

“I tried to kill myself.” The words were out of John's mouth before he could stop them and he felt Jubilee freeze. “Fuck.”

“Explain yourself now,” Jubilee ordered. “You fucking promised me.”

John was quiet for a minute before he realized he had no way out of this one. “It was before the promise. Before I met you. Before I came to the school. Not since.”

Jubilee pulled back and turned John's head towards her. “Tell me about it?”

John just nodded and ducked his head back down. “I was at my grandmother's house this one day and she was being awful to me because I had upset her golden boy by lighting the table on fire. I ran and hid in the bathroom and I found this bottle of pills there. I don't even know what kind of pills they were. After I knew she went to sleep, I packed what little stuff I had into my backpack, put the bottle of pills in there with it, and then crawled out the window and ran.

“I ended up in a park nearby because there was a bench I could sit on. And I sat there for awhile thinking about things. I was just so done with everything. I was just ready for it all to end. So I took out the pills and I'd just finished swallowing all of them when this guy in a wheelchair and a woman with red hair came down the sidewalk. I just hoped they would keep on walking. Hoped they wouldn't care and I could die alone. Instead the guy in the wheelchair stopped and said my name. I wanted to freak out but I suddenly got so sleepy. The woman got so worried and then I heard this voice in my head telling me everything was going to be okay. 

“I woke up downstairs. I still don't know how long I'd been out. The woman was standing next to my bed and introduced herself as Jean. The man in the wheelchair showed up a few moments later and introduced himself as the Professor. They told me I was safe now, that everything was going to be okay, but all I could think was that it wasn't. I was still breathing. How could that possibly be okay?”

“Oh, Johnny,” Jubilee breathed out, but John just kept talking.

“I was down there for a week before the Professor even mentioned what this place was. He said that they wouldn't make me stay here if I didn't want to but that he would very much prefer if I did. He told me he knew about what had happened with my mother and that he would be able to teach me to control my powers and that was really the only reason I said I'd stay. I wanted to make sure I'd never be able to kill anyone ever again. I never wanted that pain on my conscience again. 

“My grandmother was informed of where I was and that I was choosing to stay here. My father apparently didn't give a fuck. I'd been down there for almost three weeks when they finally discharged me and took me up to that room, introduced me to Bobby. I could tell that he was happy to have a roommate, happy to have someone he could talk to. He told me that he didn't have a lot of friends because he was pretty new to this place too. But, no matter how comfortable he made me feel, I didn't want anything to do with him. I didn't want anything to do with anything. I just wanted to learn how to control my powers and leave.

“And then you told me that we were going to be friends. I tried to push you away because I didn't want any friends. Friends would mean attachments which would mean I would want to stay here. At that point, I still fully planned finishing off what Jean and the Professor stopped me from doing that night once I left. But between you and Bobby and eventually Kitty, I started to see that maybe there was more to life than the pain I had. Still had it, of course, but it didn't have to be everything.”

“Johnny,” Jubilee started, but John just shook his head.

“The Professor and Jean never said anything to anyone about it, but they would constantly check up on me. Jean's the one who suggested the medication and after awhile I agreed to it because if I could maybe just not focus on the pain so much, I might be able to actually live and by that point I thought maybe I wanted to. The Professor always wanted me to sit down with him and talk about it, talk about my father, but I never could. I just cried every time I attempted to. 

“Eventually, it got to the point where I stopped thinking about it. Eventually, it got to the point where I told you and Bobby and Kitty that I'd thought about it. But I never wanted to tell any of you that I'd actually tried to do it. I didn't want you all to look at me differently. When I finally gained control of my powers, I was so happy that I was never going to kill someone again. And then I went and did. I killed people just like I killed my mother only this time it wasn't an accident. It was because I was trying to.”

John turned to look at her and Jubilee reached out, wiping away the tears that were streaming down John's cheeks. “Do you understand why I don't think I'm worth anything now? I haven't thought I was worth a thing since I was eight-years-old when I killed her. All I was in my mind was a murderer. I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised that that's what I became. So I do not understand why any of you are willing to put any of this in danger because of me. I'm not worth it.”

Jubilee pulled John away from the railing and wrapped him up in a proper embrace. John buried his face in her neck and let the tears that were falling fall harder. He had absolutely no idea why he'd just told Jubilee all of that.

“It's okay, Johnny,” Jubilee soothed, running a hand over the back of John's head. “I'm glad you told me.”

“I just couldn't before,” John got out. “I couldn't.”

“I know. And I understand. But you've got to listen to me, okay? You're more than just a murderer and you are definitely worth something. I wouldn't care about you even remotely if you weren't. None of us would.”

“I've been trying to tell myself that,” John murmured. “I really have. But I just...I can't let myself believe that you all think I'm worth something if I don't trust you. And I don't know how I can ever do that again.”

“Miss Jubilee?” John froze at that voice. He knew that voice. “Is John okay?”

“He's fine,” Jubilee said softly. “He'll be just fine.”

John got himself together as best he could and pulled back, looking down into concerned violet eyes. “I'm fine, Frankie. Promise.”

Frankie watched him carefully for a moment before reaching out and holding his hand. “Whatever it is, it'll be okay. Miss Jubilee can help.”

“That's what I'm trying to do,” Jubilee said, giving her a smile. “How about you go get yourself some ice cream, hm?”

Frankie nodded and let go of John's hand, smiling at him. “I'll see you later, John.”

“Bye, Frankie,” John said as she ran off.

Jubilee smiled. “That little girl adores you.”

“I know,” John said, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “Fuck if I know why.”

“Because she knows you're worth something,” Jubilee said firmly. “That little girl can see your worth from a mile away.”

John looked into Jubilee's eyes and saw steely determination that told him she wasn't going to let this go. “So we can't go back to the way things were before I just told you all that?”

“Not a fucking chance,” Jubilee said seriously. “But I am really glad that you told me. I'm glad that you told someone. I can't even begin to tell you how much better you'd be feeling right now if you'd told someone about all of that when you were a kid.”

“You know, Jubes, I'm starting to think you're right about this talking about stuff shit,” John said, letting out a hollow laugh. “Because I do feel a little better now.”

“I'm totally right about it and I have been telling you that since we were twelve,” Jubilee said, smiling at him. “I'm proud of you. That was a big breakthrough.”

John just shook his head. “No, it wasn't.”

“Yes, it really was,” Jubilee said, watching as John turned his gaze back to the lawn below. “This can stay between you and me if you want it to. I'm certainly not going to talk to anyone about it. If you decide you want to then you should. But I'm not going to make you tell anyone else. Not even Bobby.”

“Thank you,” John said, leaning up against the railing again. “Because I don't think I can ever say those words again.”

Jubilee leaned up against the railing next to him and reached out to link their arms together, putting her head on his shoulder. “I love you, John. And you're worth the world in my eyes.”

John stood there for a moment and let Jubilee's words wash over him, thinking for the first time in years that maybe she was right. Maybe he was worth something. “I love you too, Jubes. Now continue telling me about this dress Kitty wants you to wear for the wedding. And fuck, I suppose I'm going to have to come up with something to wear to this too, aren't I?”

“Yeah, Johnny boy, you are,” Jubilee said, smiling.


	11. Chapter 11

.21

“Johnny.”

John snapped back from his thoughts to the feeling of Bobby's cool hand on his cheek, and he turned his head until he came into view. John had always thought Bobby was the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen, but before they'd started whatever it was they were doing – John was never one for labels – he'd never seen him like this. Hair a mess from John's fingers threading through it, face flushed from the after effects of arousal, soft smile on his face, lips bruised from the kissing they'd done. 

Bobby Drake was the sexiest man John had ever laid eyes on.

Bobby had given up going back to his own room at night, had given up any attempts to hide what was happening between them from the children, had given up any opportunity John had given him to run. John had finally realized that Bobby really wanted to be there with him, that there was a reason for that, but he was still trying to convince himself that it was because of love.

Men like Bobby Drake didn't love men like Saint John Allerdyce.

Except maybe they did.

“What?” John asked sleepily. 

John had experienced some good sex before with others, but he'd always wanted to know what it felt like when he was in love with the man sharing his bed. Now he did and it was better than he could have possibly ever imagined. The feeling of Bobby's cool hands on John's skin was now John's favorite thing in the history of the world. Sex with Bobby Drake was now his favorite activity in the history of the world. 

Not even playing with fire had felt this good.

“I love you,” Bobby said, and John felt a smile cross his face.

There wasn't the automatic reaction of disbelief anymore. There wasn't immediately a voice in his head telling him that it was a lie. There was still disbelief, still that thought that it was a lie, but it wasn't as intense as it had been.

Jubilee had told him that was because he was starting to believe it. 

Maybe he was.

“I love you too,” John breathed out.

And he meant it, meant it more than any time he'd said it before, meant it more than anything else he'd ever said in his life. 

Saint John Allerdyce had never loved Bobby Drake more than he did in that moment.

Bobby closed the distance between them and kissed John softly, and John's hand came up to hold him there. They kissed lazily, taking their time, the urgency of earlier gone and replaced with something softer, something more meaningful. Something intimate.

After everything he'd done, John had never thought he'd get the chance to be intimate with anyone, let alone Bobby Drake.

Bobby broke their kiss and settled down along John's side, trailing fingers down his chest. John wrapped an arm around Bobby's shoulders and held him close. It was peaceful, this feeling that had settled into his chest, peaceful and calming and...

John sat straight up when he realized it, knocking Bobby to the side. Bobby sat up with him, running a comforting hand down John's back. This reaction was something that had happened many times before, but John didn't know how to explain this one. It had been so long since he'd felt like this.

Saint John Allerdyce was happy.

“Johnny,” Bobby said after a few moments. “Whatever it is, it's okay.”

John laughed. “Yeah, this is okay.”

Bobby gave him a strange look but John just launched himself at him, pinning Bobby down to the bed and kissing him harder than he'd ever kissed anyone in his life. Bobby pushed at John's shoulders until John pulled back, and then he was staring at John with complete confusion.

“What is going on?”

“I'm happy,” was out of John's mouth before he could think of a better way to phrase it. “I'm motherfucking happy, Bobby.”

Bobby just blinked so John continued. “I didn't think I could feel like this anymore. I thought I was going to have to live with this horrible ache in the middle of my chest of the rest of my life. But tonight, Bobby, tonight I feel at peace and I feel calm and I feel happy. Everything's still on my mind, everything – I was just thinking about the Brotherhood a minute ago – but one look over at you and I just...I'm happy, Bobby. And I know that this is fleeting, that it'll probably be gone in a few minutes, but it's like a breakthrough, you know? It's like a moment that's telling me that maybe someday I'll get to a place where this is normal and not something worth sitting up in bed about.”

Bobby broke into a grin when John finally stopped, pulling him back down and kissing him softly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

John settled his head onto Bobby's shoulder and sighed as Bobby's arms wrapped around his waist. “No, I think I do.”

They laid there in silence for awhile before John leaned up and kissed Bobby softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being so patient with me. I know that this isn't easy. I know that I'm making it extraordinarily difficult. But this, tonight, I hope that it lets you know that it's going to be worth it.”

Bobby reached up and tucked John's hair behind his ear, smiling. “I always knew you were going to be worth it, Johnny.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bobby said, pausing to laugh. “I imagine Alison is getting a good laugh in right now about our relationship. She always told me to not give a fuck about the assignment and just walk across the hall and jump you.”

John burst out laughing. “That sounds a lot like something she'd say. She knew?”

“I sort of had to confess it after awhile,” Bobby admitted. “I was a little too interested in you. She's the first person I ever told, actually. It was only talking to her that gave me the courage to talk to Kitty about it when I returned home. And Kitty just smacked me on the back of the head and told me it was about time.”

“And that sounds a lot like something Kitty would do.”

“Yeah, she was so happy when I told her that. She said she was so sick of me being so lovesick over you.”

“Lovesick?”

“Her word, not mine,” Bobby said. “But really, ever since that conversation with Alison, I've just known that if we could convince you to come back here, you would be worth it. Even if I was wrong about you being in love with me and I could never convince you to give this a chance, I just knew being around you again would be worth it. You're worth everything.”

There used to be an automatic response in John's head upon hearing he was worth something too. Something that told him that no matter what the person in front of him said it was a lie. He was worth absolutely nothing. He was worth less than dirt.

He still didn't think he was worth very much, but he'd told Jubilee in session two weeks ago that he was ready to acknowledge that he was worth something. Not a lot, but something.

Jubilee had just smiled.

John shifted around to glance at the clock, his eyes widening when he saw the time. “You've got a class to teach in about five hours.”

“I don't care,” Bobby murmured, drawing John's attention back to him. “I'll sleep in the afternoon after my classes are done.”

“I thought you were going down into the Danger Room with Piotr and Jean.”

“I'll sleep after that then,” Bobby said, pulling John into another kiss. “Right now I think we have something to celebrate.”

“Celebrate, hm?” John said, kissing Bobby back. “And what are we celebrating?”

“Well if you're happy for the first time in god knows how long, then I think that deserves some celebration.”

John yelped when Bobby rolled them over, laughing when he saw the look on Bobby's face. “You're going to kill me with these blow jobs one day, you know that right?”

“Nah, I like you too much,” Bobby said, grinning. “Now lay back and close your eyes and think about being happy.”

John was all too willing to do that.

 

 

.22

It had been sixteen months, a week, and six days since John had returned to the mansion when he realized that his life was considerably better than it had been before that night when he'd come home to find Piotr and Kitty in his apartment. It was better from a physical standpoint, because he was actually eating regular meals and doing more than just laying on his sofa all day, and it was better from a mental standpoint, because he was doing things, in the form of medication and therapy, that could actually help him deal with the life that he had. 

Not that he didn't still hate that life, because he did. He was going to hate the life that he'd made for himself for the rest of eternity. But there were aspects of it that were considerably better than they had been before, and John started thinking about tracking down Charles and thanking him for sending Piotr and Kitty to Austin.

Yeah, that was probably a good idea. Better do that before the Brotherhood showed up.

The Brotherhood. Fuck.

It had been four months since the federal building was bombed. The Brotherhood was quiet.

Too quiet.

Despite everyone's best efforts, it was pretty much all John could think about. He didn't know if he had minutes or hours or days left within those walls, but he knew the day of reckoning was coming. He knew what his destiny was whether they wanted to admit it or not.

The Brotherhood was coming to get him and John wasn't going to be left with any choice but to go back. The Brotherhood would haul him out of the mansion one way or another, and it didn't matter to them who they had to kill in order to do so. They would have only one objective: bring John back alive.

John would rather die the most painful, gruesome death that ever occurred in recorded history than go back to the Brotherhood. 

He'd started keeping to himself again, started skipping out on meals in the kitchen and invitations to meet Kitty for coffee in her office after her classes were done for the day. It had been three weeks since he'd had a drink with Scott on a Wednesday night and, despite Bobby's best efforts, he'd been skipping out on his time on Saturdays with Frankie too. He just couldn't bring himself to get any closer to all of these people he was going to lose. He was close enough already, and all that meant was that the pain he'd have to live with was going to be unbearable.

It was when he skipped out on his session with Jubilee that it was decided that enough was enough. And he knew that it was a collective decision, because it was Charles who came into the room to talk to him about it, and Charles was the big gun, the one they sent when they knew he'd not listen to anyone else.

“John, we're worried.”

“You have every right to be worried,” John answered. “He's going to kill everyone. Even the children.”

Charles just shook his head. “He's not going to kill anyone, John. Erik may be capable of many horrible things, but I refuse to believe that he'd order the murders of an entire school of children.”

“You don't know him anymore, Professor. He's that far gone.”

“Perhaps. But I will continue to refuse to believe it.”

John laid there for a moment before taking a deep breath and asking the one thing he'd always wondered. “The night that everyone found out that I won't use my powers anymore you told me to tell Bobby before it was too late. Why?”

“Because I was too late,” Charles said simply. “And he never knew.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Yes.”

“Even after everything he's become?”

“I don't love him as he is now. I love him as he is in my memories. He was a very different man to the one you know.”

“Scott, he told me some things his brother knew,” John started. “I understand now where he learned this method of punishment. Doesn't make it any easier, but...I understand.”

“Yes, Erik had a very difficult life,” Charles said. “It's why he is so determined to destroy them.”

“Even though the man who did that to him was a mutant.”

“The man who did that to him may have been a mutant, but the rest of the Nazis most certainly were not,” Charles said. “But I'm not in here to discuss Erik Lehnsherr.”

“I know you told me not to dwell on this. Everyone has told me not to dwell on this. But I just can't stop thinking about it,” John said after a moment. “I can't stop thinking about what's going to happen to me.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Charles said seriously. “You really don't understand, do you?”

“Apparently not.”

“Every one of us is prepared to die to make sure you don't have to return to that life. To make sure that the children stay safe. Every single one of us. Even Bobby.”

John swallowed hard at that thought.

“But we're not going to have to do that. We are a cohesive team, John. We know how to work together. The Brotherhood membership is constantly rotating. There are new people there every time Raven goes walking around a hideout. And no one in the core leadership is used to fighting together. They won't know how to work together the way that we do. We're used to this. They're not.”

“So I'm just supposed to believe that because you're used to fighting together that everything will be easy? Don't fucking lie to me, Professor.”

“I never said it would be easy,” Charles said. “But we have a better chance than they do.”

“They'll probably outnumber you at least four to one. Maybe more.”

“That's alright. They don't know the terrain like we do. They don't have any idea what they're walking into, having scouted this place or not. They definitely won't know about the government forces on standby.”

“He'll just crush their guns.”

“They won't have metal guns. They will be prepared for this.” Charles paused. “Come with me down to dinner, John, and listen to us talk strategy. If you still remember anything from your training, you'll realize how prepared we are.”

“You just want me to leave the room.”

“Yes, I do,” Charles said. “I'd also like to put your mind at ease.”

“My mind is never going to be at ease again.”

“Perhaps not,” Charles said, heading for the door. “But you'll never know if you don't even try. I will see you in the kitchen, John.”

John laid there for a few minutes, Charles's words swirling around in his mind. Everyone was prepared to die for him. Everyone. 

He wasn't worth that.

But if everyone was willing to die, if everyone was going to die, then maybe he ought to spend some more time with them before they did. Maybe he should be spending every possible second with them. Maybe they needed to know that he did care if they died. 

And then he realized that he really would care if they died. Even the children.

He wondered when he'd gone back to caring about everyone in the mansion.

He stood up before he let himself have another thought, staring at his reflection in the mirror for a moment before running his hands through his hair and walking towards the door. This was going to be awkward, but fuck, everything had been awkward in some way or another since he'd returned to the mansion, so what difference was one dinner going to make?


	12. Chapter 12

.23

Five months, three weeks, and two days after the bombing of the federal building in North Carolina, Hank walked into the private kitchen during lunch and announced that the Brotherhood were planning to attack another federal building that evening, this time in Nebraska. Conversation started among everyone else, but John's mind was stuck on the word Nebraska.

Nebraska.

Nebraska, Nebraska, Nebraska.

Oh fuck.

“Where in Nebraska?” he asked suddenly, stopping all the conversation in the room. “Lincoln?”

“Yes, Lincoln,” Hank said, giving John a curious look. “Why?”

“It's a distraction,” John murmured, running his hands through his hair. “They're going to attack it, but it will be minor. A distraction from what they're actually going to do.”

Everyone was staring at him now, but John couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes. He'd forgotten, he'd completely forgotten, and now everyone was going to die. Bobby's hand reached out to grasp his and Storm got up, crouching down next to his chair and running a hand down his back. 

“Tell us, John. Whatever it is, tell us.”

“I didn't remember until Hank said Nebraska.”

“That's okay,” Bobby said, squeezing his hand. “Just tell us.”

John took in a shuddering breath before speaking softly. “There were certain cities that were known as distraction cities. Places to attack to take eyes away from the real objective. Only the highest of the high up in the Brotherhood knew about them. For example, the attack on Dover, Delaware was the day we tried to rescue Raven from the mobile prison, the day she was hit with the cure. The attack on Ann Arbor, Michigan was the day we started mobilizing from base to Alcatraz. Lincoln, Nebraska was on the distraction cities list as a top level target. That meant it was to be used only in the event of a big objective. It's a distraction.”

“What would Magneto need a distraction for?” Kitty asked. “He's got to know his communication is being monitored at this point.”

“He knew if he put this out there that the government would request help from the X-Men,” John said hoarsely. “You guys are the government response team. You'd go.”

“And us going would leave this place unprotected,” Scott said after a moment. “He's planning to attack here.”

John just nodded. “It's the only possible explanation. Insignificant members will attack Lincoln. Ones he can afford to lose should they be caught or killed. But the best of the Brotherhood will be here. And so will he. I told you he'd do anything to get to me. And now everyone in this house is going to die.”

John pushed his chair back and stood, walking out of the kitchen before he could hear another word. He stumbled towards the elevator, taking short, ragged breaths as memories attacked his senses and overloaded his brain. Before he knew it, he'd collapsed down to the ground in the middle of a hallway, hands shaking, eyes filled with tears.

This was the day he'd been dreading since he'd escaped from Alcatraz. The day that kept him up at night for months after he'd run. The day that would finally destroy any part of John that he still had left and turn him into Pyro once and for all.

Thoughts of realization came rushing through his mind. He'd actually begun to believe that he could really make a life for himself there that wasn't dominated by misery. He'd actually begun to believe that there was still a person named John Allerdyce and that he actually knew how to be him.

He'd actually begun to believe that he was loved.

But now the Brotherhood was coming and Magneto would stop at nothing to bring him back into the fold. And once he did, John would be punished for leaving in the first place. For not coming back of his own accord. For giving up everything he knew on the Brotherhood to the X-Men and to the government.

And he would be punished severely.

It would be like nothing he'd ever experienced before. John could feel the metal piercing his skin, could feel the blood dripping down his body. And Magneto's voice. He could hear Magneto's voice ring through his ears as though he was right behind him.

Everyone in the mansion would be a victim. All of the X-Men, the rest of the teachers, and every single student. Magneto couldn't afford to leave anyone alive. The only person in that house at that very moment who would leave this battle alive was John himself, and he would wish that he was just as dead as the rest of them for the rest of his life.

“John? Are you okay?”

John blinked back tears and looked to his right, seeing Frankie on her knees next to him. 

Frankie.

Fuck, they were going to kill Frankie.

“John?” Frankie tried again. “You're terrified. I can feel it.”

John couldn't find the words to speak, couldn't lie to her when he knew what her fate was going to be, couldn't tell her the truth of what was about to happen. He just brought his shaking hands up to grasp her arms and pulled her into a hug. He had to try to get how much he cared about her through to her before everything went to fucking hell.

He never knew how much he cared for that little girl until that moment.

“John? You're scaring me,” Frankie said, but she wrapped her arms around John's neck. “I've never felt you so sad before.”

“Frankie,” came Bobby's voice, and John glanced over to see him drop to his knees next to them. “Everything's okay.”

“What's going on, Professor Drake?” Frankie asked, pulling back. “I'm worried.”

“There's nothing for you to be worried about, okay?” Bobby said, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “John was just reminded of something very difficult from his past and he's trying to deal with it. Let me help him now, okay?”

Frankie's violet eyes shifted back to John, but he still couldn't speak. So he nodded his head as best he could and watched as she got to her feet.

“Will you come find me later and tell me that you're alright?” she asked. 

John forced himself to nod again, knowing that there would be no time later to do that. Maybe she'd be blessed with as peaceful a death as the Brotherhood was capable of. Maybe he'd get to see her body before Magneto hauled him out of there. 

Just the thought of it made him start sobbing.

Bobby pulled John into his arms as Frankie watched with a concerned look on her face, and John heard Bobby ask Frankie if she could please go help spread the word that all students were to remain indoors for the day. After asking one more time if John was alright, Bobby got Frankie to walk away, and John sobbed into Bobby's shoulder even harder.

“Johnny,” Bobby said soothingly. “Johnny, it's okay. They're not going to get you. I promise you, they're not going to get you.”

“You can't stop them,” John somehow got out in between sobs. “Everyone's going to die except for me.”

“No, we're not,” Bobby said, running a hand down John's back. “I swear to you, that is not going to happen.”

“There's only nine of you,” John forced himself to say. “That's not enough.”

“Numbers don't matter,” Bobby murmured. “Intent does.”

John remembered that lesson from Scott and Jean when he was fifteen. A small group of determined people could do more than a large group without determination. The problem was that the Brotherhood had a lot of determination. They had an objective and they weren't going to leave until they were dragging John out of there with them.

“Bobby,” came Storm's voice from somewhere around them. “I know taking care of John is a priority, but we've got to get ready. The Professor says they're not far from here. They'll be here within half an hour.”

John could feel Bobby nod and he pulled back to get one last look at the face of the man that he loved, who he'd always loved, who he would have gladly spent the rest of his life with if given the chance. 

“Bobby,” John breathed out. “I love you.”

He had to say it one more time. He just had to.

“I love you, Johnny. Everything's going to be okay.”

John could barely breathe as it was, but he definitely couldn't breathe now. It had been eleven months and seven days since the first time he heard it, but Saint John Allerdyce finally believed that Bobby Drake loved him.

And now he was going to lose him.

“Johnny, listen to me. Go up to your room and stay there, okay? Leave this to us. And I promise you, I promise you, we're all coming back. No one is going to die today.”

John wanted to say something else but found he couldn't, and Bobby stared at him for a few moments before leaning in and kissing him hard. 

He watched Bobby get up and walk away, and he stayed there on the floor trying to figure out what to do. He couldn't just go to his room and stay there, couldn't let all of these people die on his behalf, couldn't live with all of these deaths on his conscience. He blinked a few times to focus his vision and found a group of students watching him with wary eyes, and he made a decision. 

Standing onto shaky legs, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter, opening it and flicking it on. The flame wavered for a moment before it was strong, and he took a deep breath as he felt the warmth of fire rush through him for the first time in six and half years.

The X-Men would handle the fight outside, he knew. But the moment any of the Brotherhood got past them and anywhere near this school, John was going to be ready for them. 

Anyone who wanted to hurt any of these kids was going to burn.

 

 

.24

John opened his eyes to see a bright white ceiling above him. A machine was beeping softly to his left and he could hear quiet talking somewhere to his right. He blinked a couple of times to try to remember how he'd gotten to wherever he was, his breath catching in his throat when he remembered that the Brotherhood had attacked the mansion.

If that was the case, then where the fuck was he?

He lifted his head up slightly and saw empty beds and lots of machines, and he sighed with relief when he realized that he recognized them all. He was in the infirmary at the mansion, and if he was still at the mansion, that must mean that the battle went in their favor.

He had absolutely no idea how that had happened though.

He spent the next several minutes trying to remember exactly what had happened, but he could only remember the sounds of the battle from outside and the scared cries of the children inside the house with him. But if he'd been inside the house and not part of the battle, then what was he in the infirmary for?

Then, with sudden clarity, the memory of a wall of bluehot flames hit him like a ton of bricks.

He'd used his powers.

He tried to breathe but found that he couldn't, and before he realized what was happening, he passed out.

When he opened his eyes again, a hand was holding his right and he turned to see Kitty sitting there, her eyes closed. She had a horrible gash that was expertly stitched on the right side of her face, her right eye was blackened, and there was a nasty purple bruise on her left cheekbone. He sucked in a sharp breath at her appearance and her eyes snapped open, a soft smile crossing her face when she saw that he was awake.

“Johnny.”

He wondered when he'd started to allow people other than Bobby to call him that, then determined it didn't matter.

“Kitty,” he said, and it was obvious that it had been some time since he'd used his voice. “What happened?”

“That's not important right now,” Kitty said, squeezing his hand. “What's important right now is that you're awake.”

“How long was I out?”

“It's been a week, John.”

John felt his eyes widen at that. What on earth had caused him to be unconscious for a week? He wasn't in any pain so he didn't think he had any injuries. Besides, why would he have any injuries? He'd been inside the house the whole time.

“Bobby...is he...” John found he couldn't even finish the question. He needed to know the answer but he wasn't entirely certain he wanted it.

“Bobby is fine,” Kitty said, and John breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, he's got a broken arm, but other than that he's perfectly fine. We all are, barring a few injuries. But nothing severe.”

“You look like shit.”

Kitty laughed. “Yeah, well, it was a tough fight. It's okay though. Jean says I should be all healed up in time for the wedding.”

John just nodded. “Everyone's okay? Really?”

“Yes,” Kitty said. “I promise.”

“The children?”

“The children are just fine.”

“Frankie?”

“Frankie is beside herself with worry about you, but otherwise she is just fine,” Kitty said, squeezing his hand again. “I think you are now the children's favorite professor, by the way. You've taken that title away from me.”

“I'm not a professor,” John mumbled.

“Not yet, you aren't. But you're still their favorite.”

“Why?”

Kitty sighed. “I'm not sure I'm the person to tell you this.”

“You're the one who is here,” John said seriously. “Tell me.”

“Johnny?” Bobby's voice echoed into the room and, before John could react, Bobby was standing on the other side of his bed, taking his hand into his cool one. “Oh God, Johnny, you're awake. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am,” John said, relaxing. “And you're okay.”

“I'm fine,” Bobby said, holding up his broken arm when he saw John's eyes zero in on the cast. “I let my students decorate it in class.”

John laughed. “Well, I'd certainly hope you weren't the one who drew pink hearts all over it.”

Bobby just grinned. “Yeah, you're okay, alright. You're still a jackass. You're just lucky I love you that way.”

Kitty squeezed John's hand and stood up. “I'm going to go tell everyone you're awake and that you and Bobby are talking for awhile. I'd expect to see everyone by the end of the day, probably starting with Jean here soon because she'll want to take your vitals and check up on you.”

“Kitty,” John said as she started to walk away, continuing when she turned back to face him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For fighting for me.”

Kitty just smiled. “Johnny, I'd fight to save you any day. Even on my wedding day. You're worth it.”

John turned back to Bobby as she walked out of the room, and Bobby pulled up a chair and sat down. “Is the broken arm all of your injuries?”

“Broken arm, sprained ankle, and one hell of a headache from getting hit in the head. But otherwise I'm perfectly fine,” Bobby said. “You're the one I've been worried about.”

“What happened to me?” John asked. “I was inside. I wasn't part of the fight.”

“You really don't remember?”

John just shook his head. “No.”

“Well, you weren't part of the fight. Not at first,” Bobby said, squeezing John's hand. “A pretty big group broke through our line and were headed towards the mansion. Storm was about to head back to cut them off when suddenly a wall of flames as tall as the mansion went up around it.”

Well, that explained the bluehot flames he'd seen in his memories earlier. 

“As tall as the mansion?” he said after a moment. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Bobby said. “We talked to some of the students that were in the house with you. They said the moment you noticed that group I just mentioned, you told them all to stay put, walked outside, and used your powers to protect them.”

“What happened to the group?”

Bobby squeezed his hand again. “They were burnt to death.”

John just nodded. More deaths by his hand. “Did I do anything else?”

“We were trying to figure out what to do about Magneto once a lot of the Brotherhood had been taken care of. He started getting more desperate, started taking apart the government forces' helicopters and using them as projectiles to kill off as many as he could. Storm tried to hit him with lightning but he stepped back and all that did was light the grass on fire. But then suddenly the fire flared and surrounded him, sort of formed this dome. I couldn't see you but I glanced behind me and saw the wall of flames was still up, so I knew you had to be somewhere. 

“We thought you were burning him alive, to be honest. And after everything he did to you, I could understand why you'd do that. But he wasn't screaming like he was burning, just screaming at you to stop. The flames didn't go away though and I was about to freeze them when they just disappeared. Magneto was so oxygen deprived from being inside them for so long that he collapsed. The government forces were able to move in then and capture him. They captured a lot of the Brotherhood leadership, actually. I think we were really able to cripple the organization based on what went down.”

John stopped breathing when he realized that Magneto was in the government's custody. 

In government custody because of something he did. 

He'd brought him down once and for all and he didn't even remember doing it. 

A machine to his left started beeping incessantly, and Bobby looked up at it and then back down to him. “Johnny, breathe.”

John stared at him for a moment before sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, repeating the process a few times before the machine stopped beeping. “Sorry, I just...he's been arrested?”

“He's in custody, yes,” Bobby said. “And, thanks to you, the government has more than enough evidence to lock him away for the rest of his life. No Raven to break him out of his plastic prison this time. Well, not plastic prison. This time it's concrete.”

“Someone from the Brotherhood will try to.”

“The government will be prepared for that,” Bobby said. “But that's not something you need to worry about. He's not going to be anywhere near you ever again.”

John nodded and let what else Bobby had said play back in his mind. “So what, I passed out?”

“Yes. The students inside who could see you said you just put the fire out and dropped to the ground. When we finally got to you, you were unconscious and for a moment I thought you were dead and I felt like I was about to collapse too. But then Storm said you were breathing and I've never been so relieved in my life.”

“Why did I pass out?” John asked.

“Jean couldn't find anything medically wrong with you, so she thinks it was from the exertion. It had been a really long time since you'd used your powers, especially to the extent that you did. In fact, none of us knew you were capable of doing what you did. A ring of flames that tall is really impressive, Johnny. Especially ones that were bluehot like they were.”

John let out a small laugh. “I'm not sure I knew I could do that either.”

“We've all been really worried though because you weren't waking up,” Bobby said softly. “The Professor was starting to wonder if there had been someone nearby who messed with you psychically, but he couldn't see anything in your head that indicated that.”

John shook his head. “I think I'd be able to tell if that had happened. I still feel like me. Kiss me?”

Bobby leaned forward and brought their lips together in a gentle kiss, John deepening it the second he got the chance. Bobby pulled away far too quickly for his liking, but he was glad a moment later when the door to the infirmary opened and Jean came into the room. 

He was still uncomfortable with displays of affection beyond occasional hand-holding in front of the others.

“John. It's so good to see you awake.”

“It's good to be awake.”

John took a good look at Jean when she came up on his right and took in the lines of stitches that stretched from the top of her neck down into the front of her blouse. Jean noticed him looking and brought a hand up to it, giving John a smile. 

“It looks worse than it is.”

“It looks fucking awful.”

Jean just nodded. “It wasn't very fun at the time, I'll tell you that much. Bobby, can you move away for a moment so I can come over there and get his vitals?”

Bobby just nodded and stood, and Jean headed to the other side of the bed. “Your vitals have been fluctuating. I was starting to get seriously worried. But once we get you stabilized, I'll discharge you. You don't have any injuries.”

John just nodded as Jean pulled a notepad out of her pocket and wrote down a bunch of numbers off the machines. “Looking good.”

John smiled at her when she looked down at him. “Thanks, Jean.”

“For what?”

“You know what.”

Jean just put a hand on his arm. “John, I'd fight to keep you safe any day. You're worth it.”

Bobby sat down next to him again when Jean walked away, and John took a deep breath when his cool hand slipped into John's. “I'm so relieved that you're alright. I honestly thought everyone was going to die.”

“I know you did,” Bobby said seriously. “And I hated leaving you sobbing on the floor, but I could only do so much for you and I had to prepare to fight.”

“It's alright. I know you did what you had to do.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Bobby smiled. “So how does it feel?”

“How does what feel?”

“The fact that you're not suppressing your powers anymore. How does it feel?”

John shrugged. “I can't tell any difference.”

Bobby just rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. Concentrate and you will.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because your skin is easily five degrees warmer than it has been. If not more.”

John took a deep breath and closed his eyes, taking stock of his body. Almost immediately, he realized he could feel the heat rushing through his veins again. It had been so, so long since he'd felt that, so, so long since he felt like he was whole.

He felt complete. 

When he opened his eyes again, Bobby was staring at him when a knowing look. “Told you.”

“It feels...I'm...” John found himself getting emotional and for once he didn't hate that fact.

Bobby squeezed John's hand. “Back to yourself?”

“Yeah,” John said after he composed himself. “A lot more back to myself than you can possibly begin to imagine.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means I love you, Bobby.”

Bobby smiled at him. “And I love you, Johnny.”

“I know,” John said seriously. “I realized right before the fight that I actually believe that now. You really do love me.”

Bobby just gave him one of those trademark Bobby Drake grins, making John laugh. “What's so funny, Johnny?”

“You have no idea what that smile does to me, do you?” John said, reaching up to run a hand down Bobby's cheek. “You've been giving me those grins since we were eleven and I've never been able to resist them. Sometimes you'll give me one in front of the others and it takes every bit of my self-control not to drag you upstairs to my room.”

“Yeah, well, I've been having serious trouble thinking about you ever since I felt that your body temperature is up,” Bobby said. “You have no idea. I've been paying very close attention to that ever since the battle.”

John laughed. “Why have you been so concerned with my body temperature, hm?”

“Because,” Bobby said, glancing around the room to make sure it was empty. “I keep thinking about how warm your hands are going to be on my skin. Just holding your hand has been incredible.”

John laughed. “Really?”

“I don't think you understand what your warmth does to me,” Bobby said seriously.

“I'm pretty sure it's the same thing your cool touch does to me.”

Bobby grinned. “Then you do understand what I'm saying.”

“Yeah, I do. Let's just keep that to ourselves, shall we?”

“I think that's a very good idea,” Bobby said. “Everything's okay now, Johnny. Everything's going to be just fine.”

John stared at him for a moment before nodding. “I think that you might just be right.”

“Of course I am. I'm always right.”

John laughed. “No, you are not.”

Bobby pouted and John just shook his head. “I'm not telling you that you're right all the time. You will hold that over my head for the rest of our lives.”

Bobby laughed. “Maybe.”

“No, I know you, Bobby, you would,” John said, yawning. “For someone who has been asleep for a week, you'd think I wouldn't be so tired.”

“It was the exertion,” Bobby said, bringing a cool hand up to caress John's cheek. “Go back to sleep. I'll be right here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

John just closed his eyes and concentrated on the heat radiating out from every part of him. 

Yeah, things were going to be fine now.


	13. Chapter 13

.25

Things were not fine.

They should be fine. Magneto was in prison, the Brotherhood was in chaos, and John finally felt completely safe within the walls of the mansion. He had reached a point where he admitted he was worth something, had reached a point where he had brief moments of happiness, and he was actually somewhat liking life for the first time in nearly nine years.

Fuck, he was even in love with Bobby Drake and, for some reason he still didn't understand, Bobby Drake was in love with him too.

But things were not fine.

John didn't know what exactly that meant at first. He didn't think he could talk about it with anyone but he'd finally mentioned it to Jubilee in one of their sessions. She tried to tell him that it was natural to doubt what was going on, natural to take a step back after something as traumatic as the battle had been for him, but he knew this was different. It wasn't a step back. He'd actually made so many steps forward.

And then on a Tuesday morning three months, three weeks, and one day after the battle, John looked at his bottle of pills and realized what was wrong.

The medication had stopped working.

That had happened to him before when he was fifteen and everything seemed to go from good to shit overnight. It had taken them awhile to figure it out, taken even longer to find the right medication to switch to, and when they had, Jean had told him that it might happen again someday.

And now it had.

John was into the elevator and headed downstairs before he could think about analyzing this any more. He wasn't going to go down the train of thought that said he deserved this. He wasn't going to even begin to consider that this was the way things were supposed to be.

Deep down, Saint John Allerdyce knew he deserved better than that.

There were a few kids in the infirmary when John walked in but he wasn't sure who any of them were. They clearly knew who he was, however, because a chorus of his name went up and smiles were on all of their faces.

Kitty hadn't been kidding when she'd said that John was now their favorite.

“John,” came Jean's voice, and he turned to look at her. “It's good to see you.”

“Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” John asked. “Alone.”

Jean nodded and motioned for him to follow her. “We'll go back here.”

John followed her into a large store room and looked around. He realized he was stalling after a moment and turned to face her, taking a deep breath. “I think the medication has stopped working.”

“Why do you think that?” Jean asked softly.

“Things should be okay now. Well, not okay, I'm not sure things will ever be okay again, but they should be better. He's locked up. He's never going to be able to get at me again. I'm making progress in therapy. Jubes keeps telling me so and I actually believe that. But everything is just so...” He trailed off, unsure of how to say it so that she would understand. “I wanted to take all the pills in this bottle this morning, Jean. And it freaked me the fuck out.”

Jean nodded in understanding. “I get it, John. And I think you're probably right about it not working anymore if you felt that way. It's been awhile since you've had those kind of thoughts.”

“Yes, it has,” John murmured. “I was hoping that maybe we could change it to something else. I know that this isn't the only medication in the world.”

“Of course we can,” Jean said, and John almost sighed with relief. “You realize that we might have to try a few different ones before we find the right one, right? Because we're going to have to give the medication a chance to work before we can determine if it actually is. This is a process that might take months.”

John knew what she meant, remembered the months of wanting to do nothing but find some way to end the misery he was in before they'd finally found one that worked. He remembered the haze that settled in with every medication change, the side effects that occurred when he stopped one and started another. It was fucking awful, really, and he'd hated every second of it.

But he also remembered that it was all worth it once they found the right one.

“I know,” he said. “I just can't live like this anymore.”

Jean smiled at him. “It's so good to hear you say that.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is. You don't want to suffer all the time anymore.”

He didn't want to suffer all the time anymore. Didn't need to suffer all the time anymore. He hadn't even realized that until Jean had just said it.

“No,” John said after a moment. “I don't. I don't want to live like that anymore. It's just taken me a long time to realize that I don't have to.”

“And that is a wonderful thing,” Jean said, turning around and looking at a shelf. “There's a new medication that just came out a few months ago. One of the manufacturer's drug reps came and talked to me about it. I think it would be a good one to start with. We've already tried a lot of the older ones when this happened the first time. Not that there aren't more that we could try, but this just seems like a good place to start.”

John just nodded. “If that's what you think is best. I trust you.”

Jean froze and John played back what he'd just said in his head before sighing heavily.

He did trust her. He really did. But this wasn't how he wanted to tell her.

“You trust me?” Jean asked softly, looking at him.

John could only nod.

Jean smiled at him, the kind of smile John hadn't seen from her since he was a student who had aced a Danger Room test. It warmed his heart in a way that he didn't know he could still experience and had him smiling back. It was good to know that he could still get that kind of reaction from her. It was good to know that she could still get that kind of reaction from him as well.

Maybe he was making more progress than he thought.

Jean turned back to the shelf and rummaged around, grabbing a couple of boxes before turning back to him. “Samples of the starter dose. A month's worth. Let's do a check-in then and see how you are.”

John took the boxes from her and looked at them. He recognized the name of the medication from a commercial he'd seen on television and nodded. “I'll give it a try and let you know.”

Jean took the bottle of the old medication from John's hands. “If you start feeling weird physically or things start to get worse, talk to me immediately.”

“I will,” John said. “I don't want to feel like that any more than you want me to.”

“Memories?”

“You could say that,” John said, letting out a small laugh. “It did get me out of class for a month though, so it wasn't entirely awful.”

Jean laughed. “I remember that. The other students were incredibly jealous of you and I told them that they shouldn't be.”

“Yeah, a couple of them came up to me wanting to know how I'd done it. I told them to fuck off because they didn't have a fucking clue right in front of Scott and ended up in detention for a month.”

Jean laughed again. “I can see Scott doing that.”

“He did that to me on more than one occasion,” John said, smiling. “I spent a lot of time in detention for doing a lot of stupid shit in front of him.”

“He's a little hard on the students,” Jean said. “I try to get him to remember what he was like when he was a teenager and to lighten up, but he doesn't really listen. He takes all of this so seriously.”

“I know, trust me,” John replied. “We've had so many conversations about taking all of this seriously over the years. He was under the impression for a long time that I didn't.”

“You didn't let him get to know you the way you did with the rest of us. He just didn't understand.”

“But now he does.”

“Now he does,” Jean said firmly. “And he appreciates having a drink with you on Wednesday nights more than I can possibly begin to tell you. So do I.”

“Well, as I have said, you're always welcome to join us,” John said, looking towards the main room when he heard Hank call out Jean's name. “Looks like you're needed.”

“Guess so,” Jean said, putting a hand on John's shoulder. “We'll get this figured out, okay?”

John just gave her a smile. “I know we will.”

 

 

.26

Six days before Kitty and Piotr's wedding, Jubilation Lee decided to ruin John's life.

“Johnny boy, you never have gotten yourself something to wear to the wedding, have you?” she asked as she walked into the private kitchen, interrupting his conversation with Bobby.

“I'm going to wear my nicest jeans, a t-shirt that doesn't have a band on the front of it, and my leather jacket,” John answered, which only made Bobby and Jubilee groan.

“Kitty will kill you if you show up to her wedding dressed like that,” Bobby said. “You can't wear that.”

“It's all the clothes I have, Bobby,” John said seriously. “She'll understand.”

“No, she really fucking won't,” Jubilee said. “There's only one solution to this.”

“You are not looking through my closet.”

“I don't need to look through your closet,” Jubilee said seriously. “I've already done that. That's how I knew you hadn't gotten yourself something to wear.”

“What the fuck, Jubes?”

“I did it for your benefit, asshole.” Jubilee just rolled her eyes. “There's a really simple solution to this that doesn't involve you getting angry, you know.”

“And what is this solution?”

“We're going shopping.”

John was pretty sure his eyes had just widened to comical proportions. “I am not leaving this place. They'll lock me up.”

“John, you're not going to be arrested,” Jubilee said. “You can leave here and come with me into Westchester to get something to wear for the wedding.”

“No,” John said firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“I think it's a good idea,” Bobby said. “I've got the afternoon free. I'll go with you.”

John just shook his head. “I don't have any money to go shopping with.”

“Bullshit. You have all the money that was in your apartment,” Bobby said seriously. “It's all been put in a bank account for your use and you know that. And don't try telling me that you don't have your debit card because I saw it sitting on the dresser beneath the mirror.”

John looked between them for a moment before sighing. “You're not going to let me say no to this, are you?”

“Not a fucking chance,” Jubilee said, smiling at him. “Come on, you haven't been to the mall in awhile.”

“Not since I was sixteen.”

Jubilee's jaw dropped. “You didn't even shop at a mall in Austin?”

“Nope,” John said. “Too many people, too many cameras, not enough easy ways to escape should someone have recognized me.”

“So where did you get your clothes?” Bobby asked.

“Vintage shop across the street from the apartment building,” John said, shrugging. “I didn't need much, they always had jeans that fit, and no one cared that I paid for all of it in cash. In fact, I think they liked me more because I did.”

Jubilee walked over to the table and grabbed John by the elbow, hauling him up out of the chair. “That's it. Now we're definitely going shopping. You need clothes from this decade.”

“Jubes, really, it'll be fine. Kitty's not going to care.”

“Yes, she really is,” Bobby said, standing as well. “Not that I'm saying Kitty has become Bridezilla, but she's kind of become Bridezilla. She's even been giving Rogue instructions on what Gambit should wear via text.”

“She wants everything to be perfect because this is the day she's dreamed about since she was eleven-years-old and saw Piotr for the first time,” Jubilee said, pulling John towards the door. “She would freak the fuck out if she knew what you were planning to wear.”

“She would not.”

“Yes, she would,” Bobby and Jubilee said. 

John gave up at that point. “Fine.”

Ten minutes later, he was in the passenger seat of a car and being driven out of the school grounds. His hands were shaking as Jubilee pulled onto the main road and he was finding it hard to breathe by the time that they were driving into town. He snapped his eyes shut once the car was parked in the mall parking lot and refused to unbuckle his seat belt.

“I am not going in there.”

“John, don't be ridiculous,” Jubilee started, but Bobby just put a hand on John's shoulder.

“Johnny,” Bobby said softly. “We won't let anything happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you.”

John sat there for a few moments before taking a couple of deep breaths and reaching for his seat belt. “The second I say I'm done, we leave. That is not up for discussion.”

“That's fine,” Jubilee said, getting out of the car. 

Bobby got out a moment later, and John forced himself to take another deep breath before doing the same. Bobby was standing there waiting for him once he did, and before they'd taken three steps towards the mall entrance, Bobby reached out and took John's hand in his. John wanted to pull his hand away, wanted to make it very clear that he was still not ready for public displays of affection, but fuck, he didn't know who any of these people were or when he was going to have to run and he really needed Bobby's support. So he didn't pull his hand away; instead he pulled Bobby closer.

Bobby just grinned at him. “This will be fine.”

“Sure it will,” John said shakily. “Sure.”

Jubilee led them into the mall and past a lot of stores that John didn't realize would still be there before walking into a store that he didn't remember. He checked out the sign on his way in, took in the name he didn't recognize, and noted that it said the store had been established in 1974, so he probably had just forgotten about its existence because this wasn't the type of store he'd been interested in when he was sixteen.

“John.”

He snapped out of his thoughts to see Jubilee standing in front of him and he forced a smile onto his face. “I'm fine.”

“Damn right you are,” Jubilee said firmly, turning back around and heading towards the back of the store. 

John followed behind her and then Jubilee and Bobby were talking back and forth about colors and trousers and shoes that would be appropriate for dancing. They both browsed the racks while John just stood there, Jubilee pausing every once and awhile to hold something up to John before either adding it to the pile in her arms or putting it back. After awhile, Bobby started to do the same, and John wondered if he was going to get any input into what he ended up buying or if he was just some sort of dress up doll.

He ended up in a dressing room with an armful of clothes about fifteen minutes later, and he sorted through them quickly. Some he immediately dismissed without even trying them on, but some were decent and some he thought he might even look good in. He just stood there looking at everything for a moment before he heard Jubilee yell out that he better be trying the clothes on or she was going to come in there, and he decided that he had absolutely no choice but to do so.

In the end, he left the dressing room with a much smaller armful of clothes than he'd had when he went in, and Jubilee pouted a little when she realized that she wasn't going to get to see him in any of the clothes.

“You should have shown us.”

“I am not making a fool of myself in the middle of the Westchester mall,” John said seriously. “Besides, it's best to keep my own clothes on so that I'm not stealing anything when I have to run.”

Jubilee rolled her eyes at that. “You don't have to run anymore, Johnny boy. Immunity, remember. That was for everything.”

“Yeah, well, that's never been announced either, so someone seeing me could still call the cops,” John said defensively. “And I would have no other choice but to run.”

“We wouldn't let you,” Bobby said, tangling their hands together again. “Now come on, let's be done here. We've still got to find you something to wear for the wedding.”

John froze. “What the fuck is all of this then?”

“That is appropriate clothes for work,” Jubilee said, grinning at him. “You'll need those.”

“I don't work.”

“Not yet, you don't,” Jubilee said. “Now come on, hand them over and I'll pay for them. You'll just have to sign for it.”

John stared at her for a few moments before he recognized the steely determination in her eyes. “Fine.”

Jubilee took all of the clothes from John's hands and walked towards the sales counter, and Bobby pulled John close and smiled at him. “Everything's fine, Johnny.”

“Nothing is fine,” John said through gritted teeth. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Trust Jubes. Trust me,” Bobby whispered and John just nodded.

“I do.”

And he did. He did trust them. He just didn't want to tell them that like this.

Though the grin that crossed Bobby's face at that admission made it worth it.

“Then believe me when I say that nothing is going to happen to you,” Bobby said softly. “Jubes and I wouldn't let that happen.”

“Johnny, get over here and sign this!”

John forced himself to walk over to the sales counter, forced himself to smile at the man standing behind it, and signed his name on the line Jubilee pointed to. Then he was being given a bunch of shopping bags and walking out of the store, and he glanced back at the sales counter, sure he was going to see the man on the phone, most likely with the police, and...

And the man was standing there, drumming his fingers against the counter, yelling out to someone named Elizabeth that her break was over.

He wasn't calling the cops. 

John took a deep breath as they emerged back into the mall, looking around and feeling relief flow through him when he realized no one was looking at them. 

No one knew who he was. 

“See?” Jubilee said. “That was painless. Now let's keep going.”

“I wouldn't exactly call that painless,” John said after a moment, almost jumping when Bobby linked their hands together again. “But it was acceptable.”

“It better have been acceptable,” Jubilee said seriously. “Because I'm not letting you bail on me now.”

John took another deep breath. “I wouldn't dream of it. But how much of my money did you just spend?”

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Jubilee said, starting to walk. “You'll just make more!”

“I don't have a job!”

“Not yet!”

John turned to Bobby and Bobby just shrugged. “Do not look at me for justification on the way Jubes's mind works.”

“I'm not,” John said seriously. “What is this job bullshit about? That's the second time she's mentioned it.”

Bobby sighed. “You know you have a job waiting for you, right? Because the Professor created a position for you. He's just waiting for you to be ready to fill it.”

“I cannot be responsible for children's education,” John said firmly. 

“You already are,” Bobby said, tugging at his hand. “Come on, if we fall too far behind Jubes then she's likely to start yelling and that will just draw attention to you.”

“Then we better start walking.”

But John was not going to forget about this job thing. Not at all.


	14. Chapter 14

.27

“You're not out there dancing?”

John tore his eyes away from where Bobby was trying very hard not to step on Kitty's wedding dress out on the dance floor to see Rogue standing next to him. “I'm not a dancer. I thought we established that at the school dance we were both at.”

Rogue laughed at the memory. “I'll never forget the way you established that. You threw your drink at me.”

John smiled. “I didn't mean to actually do that. And I believe I spent the next three weeks apologizing for it.”

“You did. May I sit down?”

“You don't need to ask that.”

Rogue pulled a chair up alongside John's and sat down, smiling when she saw Remy out on the dance floor with Jubilee. “I'm glad Remy's enjoying himself. He wasn't sure he'd be that welcome around here.”

“Why wouldn't he be welcome?”

“Because of the circumstances in which I left with him,” Rogue said softly. “Which I know you know all about.”

“I do, yes.” 

That discussion had been had three days ago when Bobby decided John should know the entire story since he was going to see Rogue again. To say that he was furious would be the understatement of the millennium.

“I'm sorry, Johnny.”

John looked over at her in confusion. “What are you apologizing to me for? I wasn't here.”

“That's not what I'm apologizing for,” Rogue said. “I'm apologizing for how much I hurt you after we met.”

“Rogue.”

“I'm serious,” Rogue said firmly. “From talking to Bobby, it sounds like the only thing I ever did was hurt you and that was never my intent. I actually really liked you a lot.”

John turned his gaze back to the dance floor. “Don't lie to me, Rogue. You barely said ten sentences to me before that dance and then you only started talking to me because I wouldn't quit apologizing.”

“I'm not lying to you. I really did like you a lot. I was just scared of talking to a crush. Never have been good at that.”

John's head whipped around so he was looking at her. “Crush?”

“Please don't tell Bobby about that,” Rogue murmured. “But yes, crush. I had such a crush on you after I got here. But after awhile I could tell that you would very much not be interested in me because you were very much not interested in girls, so I got over it and moved on. And when I did that, all I ended up doing was hurting you.”

Rogue had a crush on him when they were teenagers. 

Rogue. 

Saint John Allerdyce learned new things every day.

“I had no idea.”

“I hid it well,” Rogue said softly. “No one else knows and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“I won't tell a soul,” John said, turning to look at the dance floor again. “And you don't need to apologize. You didn't know. No one did.”

“Still have to apologize for it,” Rogue said, shaking her head. “I can't even begin to imagine what that was like for you. I tried to picture someone with Remy in an attempt to figure it out, and if that pain is anything like what I caused you, then I'm going to be upset with myself for the rest of my life.”

“I don't want you to be upset with yourself for the rest of your life,” John said, shaking his head. “It all worked out in the end.”

“But you left because of me.”

“I did not leave because of you,” John said firmly. “I left because I was a sixteen-year-old boy who didn't understand what he was doing and just wanted to escape. I regretted it the fucking moment I left that plane but I'd made my decision so that was just what was going to happen.”

Rogue reached out and put a gloved hand onto John's. “Bobby said you've been making some progress. That's good, John.”

“Yeah, it is,” John said softly. “But it'll never change the fact that I would go back to that moment and not make that decision in a heartbeat. I'd figure out some other way to suffer in silence because that's about all I'm good at anyway. Suffering in silence. And murdering people. I unfortunately am pretty good at that.”

“You're good for a lot more than that,” Rogue murmured. “Always have been.”

“I'm not sure I believe that. Not sure I'll ever believe that again.”

“What happened to Johnny the writer, hm? I still have that story you wrote me for my birthday. And I think he probably still exists.”

John let out a small laugh. “I took writing classes at the university. I thought maybe it might make me a better one, that maybe someday I'd get comfortable enough to try to publish something. But those thoughts were always ridiculous because I knew that I'd never do it. Too much of a risk.”

“You don't have those risks anymore,” Rogue pointed out. “And I think it's great that you were thinking about that. I really do.”

“I haven't told anyone about that,” John said after a moment. “I don't even know why I just told you.”

“Well, I think it's a good thing, whether you know why or not,” Rogue said, standing up. “Come on, come dance with me.”

“I told you, I'm not a dancer.”

“Neither am I,” Rogue said, holding out her hand to him. “But I want to dance with you anyway.”

John stared at her for a few moments before taking her hand and letting her pull him up. “One dance. One.”

“Don't worry, Johnny, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to.”

“Yeah, I'm not so sure about that. You got me to do a lot of shit I didn't want to do when we were kids.”

Rogue just shook her head as she led him onto the dance floor. “You got me to do a lot of stupid shit too.”

John laughed as Rogue positioned his hands, smiling at her once they started to sway to the music. “I missed you, you know.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did,” John said. “I might not have liked your relationship with Bobby, but that didn't mean I didn't like you.”

Rogue just smiled at him. “I missed you too. I was so happy to hear you were home. You belong here.”

John glanced around and smiled. “You know what, Rogue? You might just be right about that.”

“Of course I'm right,” Rogue said, laughing. “And Bobby's got a very interesting look on his face right now. He can't keep his eyes off of us.”

John grinned wickedly. “Then we're just going to have to put on a show for him.”

“Song's almost over.”

“Then I guess we're having more than one dance.”

Rogue laughed. “Remy's going to hate this.”

“All the more reason to do it. Have to stir up a little jealousy every once and awhile. It's good for relationships.”

“I'm not sure about that, but this is going to be fun.”

 

 

.28

Two years to the day after John had returned to the mansion, Charles made John a formal offer to be a professor at the school. 

And as he approached Charles's office the next afternoon, he was silently telling himself that he was about to do the right thing. He was going to tell Charles that he would agree to what he had asked but he wasn't going to tell him why. He knew that Charles would know why, knew that he'd be thinking about it too much in front of him for him not to, but he hoped that he wouldn't be called on it.

He knocked on the door and entered after hearing the permission, sitting down in the chair across from Charles's desk that he'd always sat in as a student. He'd been in this office more times than he really wanted to count, and even though he was a full blown adult now, he still felt like that eleven-year-old kid whenever he was in there. He tried to avoid being in there as much as possible because of it, but he had no choice but to be in there now. 

He also had no choice but to do what he was about to do. His discomfort at the entire situation aside, he was doing this because he owed them. Everyone in that mansion had put their lives on the line for him, whether they were a member of the X-Men or a five-year-old student. 

Saint John Allerdyce owed them all.

“Yes, John?” Charles asked, and John sucked in a deep breath. 

“I thought about your offer,” he started. “And it's flattering, really it is. I honestly don't know why you'd trust me with this. But I don't think I'm actually capable of teaching any subject that is taught in this school. I mean, I never finished high school and the stuff that I did learn has long since left my head.”

“Then would you like to hear what it is you would be teaching?”

“I should have known that you already had an idea.”

“I've had an idea since I created the position,” Charles said, smiling at him. “I remember your time here as a student better than you do, apparently. And the one thing you were always doing was writing. You wrote so much that sometimes you forgot to actually write the essays you had been assigned.”

John let out a small laugh at that. “Yeah, I got in trouble on more than one occasion for doing that. I just had to get these ideas that came into my head out though.”

“Which is why you've been writing since you returned home,” Charles said. “I did notice that laptop was near you any time I went in your room.”

John just shrugged. “I had to do something with my time. Besides, like I said, I had to get these ideas out of my head. Bad things happen whenever I keep them in and I'd been keeping some of them in for years.”

“Well, I am glad to hear that you have an outlet for that. But that is what I would want you to teach.”

“Writing?”

“Creative writing, expository writing,” Charles said. “I'm well aware of your adeptness at both. Your essays were some of the best I've ever read and that's because of your talent.”

“Writing,” John murmured. “You want me to teach writing classes.”

“Yes, I do.”

“That actually might work,” John said after a moment. “That's something I know I'm good at and it's something that I don't need to redo the entire curriculum for or study as much as my students do because I don't remember shit.”

Charles studied him. “If you want to finish your education, we could work on that together.”

John shook his head. “Thank you, Professor, but no. That ship has long since sailed.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, just let me know,” Charles said. “I know that you're reluctant to do this.”

“It's not that I'm reluctant to do this, it's just...” John trailed off when he realized he couldn't describe it any other way. “Alright, I'm reluctant to do this. But it's only because the thought of being responsible for someone's education terrifies me.”

“I know that you will likely view it differently, but when it comes to Frankie and the rest of the group you work with on the weekends, you already are. It might not be traditional education, but what you're doing with them is education.”

“I'm just trying to pass along the things that you taught me,” John said after a moment. “You knew how important being able to control my powers was to me and I just felt like if I could pass some of that knowledge on to the next generation then maybe the sacrifice of mine would be worth it.”

“Which is why you started teaching at the rec center in Austin.”

“Yes,” John said, nodding. “But I've never told anyone that before.”

“Have you used your powers again since the battle, John?”

John nodded slowly. “I've been playing around with it again, just like I used to. Lighting candles, tossing a flame back and forth in my hands, stuff like that. It's only really made me realize how much I missed them and how physically awful I felt for not using them.”

“And you want to make sure the children never feel they are in a position where they have to do the same,” Charles said after a moment. “You're teaching them to be confident in their powers so that they never feel they need to suppress them.”

“That's part of it, yes.”

“So you're comfortable doing that but not teaching some kids how to write?”

John sighed heavily. “It's not that I don't want to do it. It's that I know I won't be any good at it.”

“I think it's more than that.”

John just shook his head. “For once, Professor, stay out of my head.”

“I'm not in your head,” Charles said seriously. “It's obvious just from looking at you that there's more to this.”

John was quiet for a moment. “I wanted this. I wanted it so badly. And I guess I just don't feel like I deserve to be given it now.”

“How many times must we all tell you that you deserve everything in the world?”

“At least once more, as always,” John said, looking up at him. “I'm trying, Professor. I'm really, really trying. But there is a large part of me that says I walked out of here, walked out on all of this, and I don't deserve to just be handed it back.”

“I'm not just handing anything back to you. You've earned this.”

“I will try to believe that,” John said. “But I hope that you understand that will be incredibly difficult for me.”

“I do. But I also believe that you'll get there someday,” Charles said, smiling at him. “So will you teach writing classes for me, Professor Allerdyce?”

John swallowed hard at the sound of that title and forced himself to take a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Wonderful. You'll start next semester. Get some ideas together for lessons and, if you need help with that, ask one of us. We will all be more than happy to assist.”

John just nodded. “Answer me something?”

“Of course.”

“How long ago did you come up with the idea for me to teach writing classes?”

Charles studied him for a moment. “Honestly?”

“Please.”

“When you were fourteen.”

John's jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“You were already being groomed for this then,” Charles said. “All of you were. And I started to think about the place each of you would have in the school and how to fit you in. I couldn't find a good place for you. None of the subjects being taught here seemed a good fit. And then I found out about your writing. And it just all made sense.”

John blinked back the tears that he could feel forming in his eyes. “Really?”

“Absolutely. Besides, we've never had writing classes here before, and I think it will be a nice juxtaposition to the art classes we've added. A good creative outlet for the children.”

John just nodded. “I don't know what to say.”

“Just understand that you have deserved this for a long time then,” Charles said, glancing at the clock. “I'm sorry to cut this short but I have a student coming in so if you would be so kind as to leave now.”

John stood up. “Of course.”

He was halfway to the door when Charles called out his name again. “Yes, Professor?”

“Welcome to the team.”

John just shook his head. “I'm not part of the team.”

“Yes, you are,” Charles said firmly. “I will speak to you later, Professor Allerdyce.”

John nodded and walked out of the office, heading to the elevator and sinking down to the floor once he was inside. 

Professor Allerdyce. 

That was going to take some getting used to because it sounded weird as fuck.


	15. Chapter 15

.29

The day had come. Twenty-six months, two weeks, and three days after he'd first arrived back at the mansion, Saint John Allerdyce was going to teach a class.

Like actually teach a class. Not informally help Frankie and her friends on the lawn every Saturday. No, this was formal. This was having his own classroom and his own office and having classes at specific times throughout the day and creating assignments and grading papers and being responsible for children's educations.

To say he was terrified would be an understatement. 

“John, you'll be fine.”

Kitty was standing outside of the classroom with him and John was thankful for it. Bobby wanted to be there but his class was on the lawn at the complete other side of the mansion, and since it was the first day of the new school year, he felt he needed to be there when class started. Kitty, on the other hand, didn't have a class starting for another hour, so she'd volunteered to be the one to help calm John's nerves.

And John had a lot of nerves. 

“I can't do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Kitty said softly, taking his hands into hers. “You have been preparing for this for almost three months, John. You have taken it so seriously. You are ready.”

“Kitty, I just...” John broke off when a couple of students walked into the room and he closed his eyes. “I cannot do this.”

“You're not listening to me,” Kitty said seriously. “You can do this.”

John swallowed hard. “I don't deserve the right to be doing this. I don't deserve any of this.”

“Stop it right now,” Kitty said forcefully. “You deserve everything in the world, John Allerdyce, and this is just part of that.”

“I know,” John said. “Bobby and Jubes keep telling me that. I'm just...I'm terrified.”

“I was scared before teaching my first class too,” Kitty said, squeezing his hands. “But you are capable of doing this. The Professor wouldn't have hired you to do it if he thought you weren't.”

“The only job I've ever had was washing dishes. I refuse to even consider the Brotherhood being a job. I never finished school. I just...” John trailed off and forced himself to take a deep breath. “How can I be responsible for children's education after everything I've done?”

“Everything you've done has nothing to do with walking into that classroom and helping some kids learn how to write,” Kitty said. “It has absolutely nothing to do with anything.”

“But they all know.”

“I know they all know. But they all know you'd do anything for them too. The battle proved that. You're their favorite professor, John, and you haven't even taught a class yet. They are looking forward to this, believe me.”

“I don't know who any of these kids are.”

“You will. It'll just take a few weeks to remember everyone's names. Seating charts are helpful for that, by the way. Let them sit where they want the first day and then announce that's their seat for the rest of the semester.”

“I hated assigned seating,” John murmured. “I'm not doing that to them.”

“Then don't,” Kitty said, smiling at him. “That will only make them love you more.”

“I don't deserve love.”

“Saint John Allerdyce, you are not allowed to talk about yourself like that,” Kitty admonished. “And you know it.”

“I know, I know,” John said, shaking his head. “I don't even completely believe that anymore. I'm just nervous.”

“And there is nothing wrong with being nervous,” Kitty said softly. “But you're going in that room and teaching your classes whether you like it or not. That's what you agreed to. That's what you promised Jubes and Bobby you would do.”

“I know I did,” John said, sucking in a deep breath. “How do you handle it?”

“Handle what?”

“The responsibility. How do you handle it?”

Kitty just smiled at him. “It's actually a nice responsibility to have. You're helping to form the world views of children and young adults through the subject that you're teaching. And I know you, John. You want to help make sure these kids don't ever think the Brotherhood is the best option for them. You want them to understand how to be good people.”

“Because I'm not one, at least not in my mind,” John finished.

“You are a good person,” Kitty said firmly. “And stop thinking that you aren't.”

John just nodded. “So I need to go into this with the mindset that I can help keep these kids from ending up like I did? That's what you're saying.”

“I'm saying that going into this with that mindset will help calm your nerves. This is no different than helping Frankie and her friends, John. This is just doing it in a classroom about writing instead.”

John looked up as more students walked into the classroom. “I know that you're right, Kitty. I really do. But...”

“But nothing,” Kitty said. “You can do this, Johnny. I know you can. Bobby knows you can. We all know you can. Now take a deep breath.”

John forced himself to take one, then took another two just for good measure. “You're sure about this?”

“Johnny, we would not throw you in at the deep end if you couldn't swim,” Kitty said, squeezing his hands. “You've got this.”

John nodded as the bell rang, a few more students making their way into the room as Kitty let go of his hands. “I have no choice now, right?”

“You've already made your choice,” Kitty pointed out. “And you did that when you agreed to do this. Now get in there.”

John watched as Kitty let go of his hands and walked away. After taking a few more deep breaths, he turned and walked into the classroom, walking over to his desk and staring down at all the papers he had assembled there. He took another deep breath before looking up at his students, and as his eyes scanned the room, he noticed familiar violet ones looking back at him.

Frankie was there.

He couldn't let Frankie down.

“Good morning,” he forced himself to say. “I'm Professor Allerdyce.”

“Good morning, Professor Allerdyce,” Frankie said, smiling at him. 

John felt the tightness in his chest loosen a bit at the excitement he could see in her eyes, and he decided that he was going to do the absolute best job he could at never disappointing her. And maybe if he didn't disappoint her then he wouldn't disappoint any of the rest of them either.

“This class is not going to be like your other classes. Creative writing is something that is personal to each of you and therefore everyone's writing will be different. I am going to teach you the structure of how to write but what you choose to write is entirely up to you. I will grade based only upon story structure and not upon your subject matter. And hopefully, by doing so, I will not only teach you to be better writers but also teach you that anything you have to say is something worth saying.”

John paused and looked around the room before reaching down and picking up the stack of copied papers he'd done, walking towards the first student he saw and beginning to hand them out. When he got to Frankie, she gave him another big smile, and John felt the tightness in his chest loosen up a bit more. 

When he got back to his desk, he reached for his copy before taking another deep breath. “Shall we begin?”

By the time the hour was up, John felt like he could breathe normally. He didn't think he'd sounded like too much of an idiot, he'd given them a simple assignment for homework, and the hug Frankie stopped and gave him on her way out of the room made him smile. 

Maybe he actually could do this. 

Regardless, he'd made promises so he was going to.

 

 

.30

Two months, three weeks, and four days after John had taught his first class, he had just finished up a meeting with a student in his office when Storm knocked on the doorframe. 

“Mind if I come in?”

“Not at all,” John said, putting the essays he was getting ready to grade down on the desk.

“How the teaching going?”

“Better,” John said honestly. “I'm still terrified but it's getting better.”

“Your students really like your classes,” Storm said, sitting down across from him. “I've had to take stories away from kids in your classes more than once because they're doing what you used to do and writing in my class.”

John couldn't help the smile coming to his face. “Then I'm being a good influence on them.”

Storm just laughed. “I've been told your classes for next semester are already full. That's good.”

“Kitty keeps telling me that I'm the favorite around here, though I don't see how that could possibly be true.”

“John, you surrounded the entire mansion in a wall of flames as tall as the building. Until they see any of us use our powers to do anything that comes close to that, you're going to be the favorite,” Storm said, smiling at him. “But that's not why I came in here.”

“I had guessed that,” John said, drumming his fingers against the desk. “What can I help you with?”

“I need your help teaching a group of students. Everyone else is occupied during the only time I can get all of these students together at the same moment.”

“I'm not teaching any of the other subjects, Storm. I don't know shit about them.”

“You do about this one,” Storm said, pausing. “It's a Danger Room session.”

“Excuse me?”

“I need your help with a Danger Room session for a select group of students,” Storm said simply. 

“I haven't done a Danger Room session in almost a decade,” John said after a moment.

“I know. But I know you can do this.”

“Storm...”

“I wouldn't ask you to do this if I thought you couldn't handle it,” Storm said seriously. “I know you remember far more about all of your training that you care to let on.”

“And how do you know that?”

“The little things you mention every once and awhile,” Storm said softly. “The input you've given whenever we are talking strategy in front of you before we go fight the Brotherhood.”

“That's just because I know the Brotherhood.”

“That's bullshit and you know it,” Storm said, leaning towards the desk. “John, I know you can do this. I need you to do this.”

John started to shake his head but Storm spoke again. “Trust me. Trust me like you used to.”

“I do,” John said automatically, causing Storm to smile.

And he did. He really did. He just didn't want to tell her like that.

“I'm so glad to hear that.”

“I trust everyone the way I used to,” John said quietly. “I've been trying to let everyone know in my own way, on my own time. I just often don't know how to say it.”

“That's a good thing,” Storm said. “It's really good.”

“Despite trusting you, I still don't know if I can do this,” John said. “It's been a really long time since I've used my powers like that. I don't remember using them during the battle at all. I think that was just all instinct.”

“Instinct is important,” Storm agreed. “But I know you still have the skills too.”

John swallowed hard. “I'm really afraid of going into that room.”

“Why?”

John took a deep breath. “I'm afraid going in there will make Pyro come back.”

“I think it would actually be a good thing if Pyro came back,” Storm eventually said. “Jubilee is right when she says that's still your name whether you use it or not. You cannot change the part of you that is Pyro.”

“Storm,” John interrupted. “When Pyro takes over, I do terrible, terrible things.”

“You have been here for over two years now, John. You have explained your actions with the Brotherhood to each of us in different ways. What is incredibly clear to everyone, however, is that the Pyro that exists in your mind is not the Pyro that actually exists. Your father aside, you didn't do anything because you wanted to. Not a thing. If the Pyro in your mind really existed, you would have wanted to.”

John stared at her for a few moments. “I don't know if I believe that.”

“Then come do a Danger Room session with me. Right now. Just you and me. We'll even do your favorite program.”

“I don't know about that either.”

“If I think for a moment that the Pyro in your mind has reemerged, I'll do something about it. Whatever it is you want me to do.”

“And if I said I'd want you to kill me?”

Storm studied him before nodding. “If the Pyro in your mind reemerges, I will kill you. I'm so confident that what you think might happen will not happen that I am willing to promise you that.”

John sat there for a moment. “Storm, I really don't think I can do this.”

“John, listen to me,” Storm said seriously. “If I thought for a second that this would set you back or put you on a path to turn into a person who actually wants to kill people, I wouldn't be asking you to do this. I know that you can do this.”

John ran a hand through his hair as he tried to think of some way to get out of this. “I have essays to grade.”

“They can wait. Mine are.”

“I'm not good at this time management thing yet.”

“You're doing fine,” Storm said. “And you will do fine with this.”

“You're not going to let me say no to this, are you?”

Storm just grinned at him. “Nope.”

John swallowed hard. “The moment I say I want to stop, we stop. And if I can't make it through this one, or if I do and I feel this way anyway, then I'm not helping with the students.”

“Agreed,” Storm said. “Come on.”

John watched Storm get up and he stood onto shaky legs. “I'm not going to be very good at this. It's been so long.”

“I think you'll find you'll be better at it than you think,” Storm said, wrapping him up in a hug when John got close enough. “This is a good thing, John. I promise you.”

John just nodded and then followed Storm out of his office and downstairs. He felt like a fraud as he pulled on the uniform he used to wear when he was a teenager, felt like a fraud as he walked into the Danger Room with Storm, and felt like a fraud when she told him one more time that he could do this.

But by the time it was over, John remembered why he'd always loved Danger Room sessions, remembered the feeling of swirling fire around for good instead of evil, and the smile on his face as they emerged from the room told Storm everything. 

He voiced it anyway. “That was fun.”

“And you're still you,” Storm pointed out. “You're still John.”

John just shook his head. “No, in there I was Pyro. The real Pyro. The Pyro I always wanted to be.”

And it actually felt good to have that part of him that called itself Pyro back. He didn't realize how much he'd missed it. Not the one who had done everything in the Brotherhood, but the one who had existed at the mansion. 

Maybe that part of Saint John Allerdyce had never really left. 

“Told you,” Storm said, pulling him into a hug. “Now come on, let's clean up and get upstairs. It's almost time for Bobby's class to be over and I know he'll be happy to hear about this.”

“Yeah, I think he will be.”


	16. Chapter 16

.31

John had just finished making himself a Manhattan when the door opened behind him and he turned to see Jean walk into the room. “Hello, Jean.”

“John,” she said, walking over to him. “Wasn't expecting you to be in here.”

“Needed a drink,” John said, bringing his glass to his lips for a sip. “Bobby's not very happy with me.”

“Want to talk about it?” Jean asked, reaching for a glass.

“I don't know,” John said. “He's just frustrated with me and I have absolutely no idea why. Well, I have an idea as to why but I don't know if I'm right.”

Jean poured herself a glass of wine before walking over to one of the room's armchairs. “Sit down and talk to me.”

John followed her over there and sat down, running a hand through his hair as he set his glass down on the side table. “I don't know if I should talk about this with you.”

“John, I'm not your professor anymore. And if you think Bobby doesn't talk to us about you, you're wrong.”

Of course he does.

“I just think that he might want more out of this relationship than I'm capable of giving him,” John said after a moment.

“You don't think you can give him everything?”

“I am giving him everything,” John said seriously. “I'm doing everything I know how to do. This is just the first serious relationship I've ever been in. Fuck, this is the first relationship that I've ever been in period. I just think he's expecting more that I don't know how to give.”

Jean took a sip of her wine. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“Why do you think I need a drink?” John asked, reaching for his glass. “I'm sick of being told that I don't understand. I need him to make me understand because I just don't.”

“Have you two ever fought before?”

John looked over at Jean. “Do you not remember when I was a student?”

“That was different than this,” Jean said seriously. “That was two friends fighting over something stupid. This is two partners fighting over something that isn't.”

“Good point,” John murmured, taking a large sip of his drink. “No, I guess we haven't.”

“I think that might be part of the problem. You two don't communicate enough.”

John let out a small laugh. “What the fuck would you call all the talking we've done since I got back here?”

“You talked about your life,” Jean said firmly. “You two did not talk about your relationship.”

“I don't know if I agree with that,” John said, looking up when Scott walked into the room. “I'll leave.”

“Absolutely not,” Jean said, shaking her head. “We need to finish this conversation. Scott can just join us.”

“I do not want to be talking about this with both of you, or either of you, or anyone else,” John said, taking a long sip from his drink.

“You might not want to, but you need to,” Jean said.

“What are we talking about?” Scott asked as he went to make himself a drink.

“John and Bobby had a fight,” Jean said before John could say anything. “I'm just trying to help him see that they're not communicating very well.”

“Fuck,” John said, shaking his head. “I really hate you right now.”

“No, you don't,” Jean said, smiling when Scott walked over to join them. “I was just about to start giving him some advice based on what we've learned.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Scott said, sitting down. “I know Piotr and Kitty both appreciated that when we gave them advice too.”

“Advice about what?” John mumbled, bringing his glass to his lips.

“How to maintain a relationship when you spend ninety-nine percent of your time within the walls of this house,” Scott said, taking a drink. “It really takes some work. It's not the same as any relationship that exists out in the normal world.”

“Sure it's not.”

“No, John, it really isn't,” Jean said. “You've got to deal with the fact that you really don't get any time alone together, that the small amount of time you do get alone together can be interrupted at any moment by a student or another member of the staff or something the X-Men are required for, and that you've got to manage that time alone together well. It took Scott and I awhile to figure that out.”

“So you're saying Bobby and I don't know how to spend time together?”

“I'm saying that if your relationship is anything like how ours was at the beginning, you two are doing little more than having brief conversations and having sex,” Jean said, and John nearly choked on his drink.

“Not that there's anything wrong with that,” Scott added. “You've just got to make time to do other things as well.”

John drained the rest of his drink and got up to make himself another. “I do not want to fucking talk about this.”

“Too bad,” Scott said. “I don't want to see either you or Bobby get hurt.”

“We're not going to,” John said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

“You already are,” Jean said. “I can see it all over you and you made it very clear that you are when we first started talking.”

“I just want to know what I'm doing wrong. That's it.”

“And the fact that you think you're doing something wrong means that you're hurt,” Jean replied. “I know you've never been in a relationship before, but John, that's the truth. Feeling like you're doing something wrong means you're hurt.”

“What do you think you're doing wrong?” Scott asked.

John didn't answer, so Jean did. “He thinks Bobby wants more out of the relationship than John is able to give him.”

“Not unlike how I felt when we first started ours,” Scott said knowingly. “There's really very simple ways to fix that.”

“Like what?” John asked, draining his glass and reaching to make himself another. 

“Well, getting drunk certainly won't help things,” Scott pointed out. “But you just need to take time to inject a little romance into it.”

“I don't know how to do romance.”

“Yes, you do,” Jean said. “That was obvious just from the stories I used to take from you in class.”

John paused. “You read those?”

“I was curious to know what was so important that it was taking your attention away,” Jean said. “They were very good, John. And very romantic.”

John closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath. “They were also unrealistic.”

“When you were fifteen? Yes. Now that you're twenty-five? No.” Jean paused to take a sip of her wine. “When is the last time you and Bobby went on a date?”

“A date?”

“Yes, a date,” Scott said. “Jean and I go on dates every Friday night.”

“We've never been on a date. And I honestly don't know how that would be possible for me,” John said, picking up his drink and turning around. “I can't leave this place.”

“That's bullshit and you know it,” Scott said.

“Yeah, well, you're not the one who might be arrested every time they walk outside.”

“John, you're not going to be arrested,” Jean said seriously. “And if for some reason that you were, you would be released very soon afterward because of the immunity you were given. But all charges against you in the entire country have been dropped. There is no reason to arrest you.”

John sighed and leaned up against the table. “Just because the charges have been dropped doesn't mean that they won't arrest me.”

“Yes, it does,” Jean and Scott said at the same time.

“Pyro is still one of the most wanted men in the country. No one has ever made any sort of announcement to the contrary. The second anyone sees who I am, they'll call the cops.”

“That is something you're going to have to work through,” Jean said. “Because there is no reason for any law enforcement agency in this country to formally arrest you or hold you. The second they check for any warrants on you, they'll find none.”

“And the only way you're going to work through it is to leave the mansion and realize that you're safe out there too,” Scott said, smiling at him. “How's this? How about you and Bobby join Jean and I this Friday? A double date. We'll go to this Italian restaurant in Westchester that we've taken Bobby to a few times before. I know he likes it and I'm sure you will too.”

John sighed heavily. “Bobby and I have never been on a date of any kind, so I'm sure that, given how frustrated he is with me, he will not appreciate our first one being a double date with the two of you. So, thank you, but no.”

“Then you take Bobby to the Italian restaurant on Friday night,” Jean said. “Scott and I will stay here and help monitor the children.”

“I'm not fucking up your date night for this.”

“You wouldn't be,” Scott said. “Jean and I will just go Saturday night instead.”

John stared at them for a moment before sighing again. “You two really think this is a good idea?”

“Yes,” they both said at the same time.

John took a long sip from his drink. “I don't know how to go on a date. I've never been on one.”

Jean just smiled. “It's just dinner with Bobby, John. That's all it will be. You have dinner with Bobby all the time.”

“With all of you.”

“And sometimes just the two of you,” Scott pointed out. “Bobby takes trays of food up to your room pretty often. The only difference this time is that you'd be in a restaurant.”

John took a long drink. “If I say I'll think about it, can that get me out of this conversation?”

“Only if you promise to actually do it,” Jean said seriously. “I know how important this is.”

John stood there for a moment before polishing off his drink. “Fine. I'll do it. But I do not want to talk about this anymore.”

“Good,” Scott said. “Go ask him now.”

“I agree,” Jean said. “Go ask him now.”

John glared at them for a moment before walking out of the room. He slowly made his way back to his room, stopping to talk to a couple of his students who had some questions on the way, and when he walked inside, Bobby was sitting on the bed. 

“Johnny, I...” Bobby started, standing up.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Saint John Allerdyce was never known for being smooth and that was just another example as to why.

“A date?”

“Yes, a date. Go into town, have dinner at some restaurant. A date.”

Bobby stood there for a moment and John was ready to go burn Jean and Scott to a crisp when suddenly one of those trademark Bobby Drake grins crossed his face. “I think a date sounds wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Bobby said, walking over to him and wrapping his arms around John's waist. “I'm sorry I got mad earlier.”

“It's alright,” John said. “I deserved it.”

“No, you really didn't,” Bobby murmured, pulling John into a kiss. “Want to make up?”

“Make up?”

Bobby trailed kisses down John's neck, sucking at the base of it for a moment before pulling back with a huge grin. “We've never fought before which means we've never made up before which means we've never had makeup sex.”

John swallowed hard as Bobby's hands slid underneath John's shirt. “I suppose I could be okay with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

John was pulled over to the bed and pushed down on top of it before he could blink, and as Bobby climbed on top of him, John couldn't help but think that maybe Jean and Scott had been right.

Maybe all Saint John Allerdyce and Bobby Drake really did was have brief conversations and sex.

He was going to have to change that.

 

 

.32

Saint John Allerdyce was nervous. 

Bobby had picked the restaurant because John didn't know what restaurants existed in Westchester anymore, and he'd walked into the place and been greeted immediately by name, which told John that Bobby had been there often. When the hostess said it had been about a month since they'd seen him, Bobby had just smiled and John had become confused. 

When exactly had Bobby come had dinner there? John could have sworn they'd eaten together every night since he'd returned to the mansion thirty-one months, two weeks, and four days ago.

Bobby ordered a drink so John did the same, thankful that there would be some alcohol to help calm his nerves. Bobby looked through the menu for about two seconds before putting it down, and John kept his up as long as possible to keep from having to participate in the situation he found himself in. But once the waiter had taken their orders and taken the menus away, John had no choice but to face Bobby.

He wasn't even entirely sure why he was so nervous about that.

It wasn't like Bobby didn't know him like the back of his hand. It wasn't like Bobby couldn't tell that John was apprehensive about being out of the mansion. It wasn't like Bobby probably couldn't tell exactly what John was thinking at that moment. And then with startling clarity, it came to him.

He was nervous because he was on a date with Bobby Drake.

He'd dreamed of being on a date with Bobby when he was a teenager. Dreamed of just going to a restaurant and having dinner with him, just the two of them. Dreamed that maybe one day he'd take Bobby out like this and then tell him that he loved him more than words could possibly express.

And now, here he was, on an actual date with Bobby Drake.

“You're being quiet,” Bobby pointed out after a few moments. “I know it's still hard for you to be out in public, but I thought since you invited me that you might be working through that.”

John swallowed hard and reached for his drink, taking a long sip from it before deciding to just tell Bobby the truth. “I'm nervous.”

“I can tell.”

“It's not got anything to do with me being out of the mansion though,” John continued. “Well, actually, I'm sure that's part of it, but most of it just has to do with the fact that I'm here with you.”

“You're nervous because of me?” Bobby asked, confusion on his face. “Johnny, what is there to be nervous about? It's just me.”

“Exactly. It's you.” Bobby just stared at him so John kept talking. “I have always, always, always, ever since I first realized that I was in love with you, wanted to go on a date with you. And now here we are and I'm fucking terrified about it, to be honest.”

“And what are you terrified about, hm?”

“Fucking it up,” John said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Bobby laughed. “You're not going to fuck anything up.”

“I'm not so sure about that.”

Bobby smiled. “No matter what you do tonight, Johnny, I'm still going home with you. I'm still going to love you. So you're fine.”

John took another sip of his drink. “I've never been on a date before.”

Bobby's eyes widened slightly. “You haven't?”

“Nope,” John said. “Never been anyone I wanted to go on one with but you.”

“You didn't even try to date someone in Austin?”

“You know I didn't.”

“Why?”

John took a deep breath before deciding to answer honestly. “They weren't you.”

Bobby's hand reached across the table, tangling his fingers together with John's. “So, what, you were just going to be alone for your entire life? You loved me that much?”

“I love you that much,” John corrected. “Always have.”

“Oh, Johnny,” Bobby murmured, and John had a moment where he was convinced that he'd just fucked everything up. “That's kind of flattering in a sad way.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” John asked defensively.

“I mean it's flattering as fuck that someone, especially you, thinks that I'm that special,” Bobby said, squeezing his hand. “But it's also sad to me that you had to go through that. That the only reason you went through that was because of me.”

“I didn't go through anything because of you,” John said firmly. “I made my own decisions, Bobby. I did. Not you.”

“I look back on our teenage years now and I sometimes wonder how the fuck I never realized it, you know? It's so obvious.”

“Yeah, I was apparently very obvious. Jubes figured it out so I had to tell her. Kitty figured it out and Jubes confirmed it for her. Got to be honest, that makes me mad because I tried so hard to hide it.”

“I'm not talking about you,” Bobby said softly. “I'm talking about me. It's so obvious to me looking back on all of it that I was in love with you. So, so obvious.”

“Then you hid it well,” John said. “Because I was convinced that you could never feel that way.”

“There was never anyone else for you?” Bobby asked after a few moments. “It was always me?”

“It's always going to be you,” John said simply. “Whether that means I spend my life alone or not.”

“Well, I'm just going to have to make sure that doesn't happen,” Bobby said, pausing for a moment. “Does it bother you that it wasn't that way for me?”

“What?”

“I mean, does it bother you that there were others?”

“I don't enjoy thinking about it, that's for sure.” 

“I'm being serious.”

John stared at him for a moment before sighing. “I knew there were going to be others because I never said a thing. It's just another thing I have to live with, and to be honest, I really don't like thinking about the other people you've had sex with because you were clearly very experienced the first time we ever fucked. Can we please change the subject?”

Bobby squeezed John's fingers again. “I'm so sorry I hurt you.”

“You didn't.”

“You and I both know that's bullshit,” Bobby said softly. “I'm sorry I'm still hurting you.”

“You're not.”

“That's bullshit too.”

“I'm just doing everything I can to keep you interested,” John said after a moment. “Because I don't think I'm anything all that special and I think, especially now that I know what this feels like, that if I had to see you with someone else again that it might kill me.”

“Johnny, you're special,” Bobby said firmly. “You have no idea how special you are.”

“I'm really not.”

“I'm not arguing about this with you. You are special, even if you can't see it.”

John reached for his drink again. “Fine.”

“And I'm interested,” Bobby said. “I'm so, so interested. And I don't foresee a moment where I ever won't be. I love you, Johnny. And I don't say those words easily.”

John swallowed down the rest of his drink. “You don't?”

“No, I don't,” Bobby said seriously. “You're the only person I've ever said them to, actually.”

John took a moment to let that sink in. “Not even Rogue?”

“I was never in love with Rogue. She was never in love with me either. We both realize that now but at the time we were in a relationship because we were afraid of not being in a relationship. That's really all it was. And I'm sorry that it hurt you so badly.”

“Please stop apologizing,” John said, trying to flag down their waiter. “Fuck, I need another drink.”

“You've been drinking a lot lately,” Bobby pointed out. 

“I drink when I'm stressed,” John said, ordering another when the waiter approached their table. 

“Is that why Kitty found a miniature liquor store in your apartment?”

“You could say that.”

“Johnny.”

“It's nothing to worry about. I'm not an alcoholic,” John said, shaking his head. “But that's not what we're here to talk about.”

Bobby just sighed. “What are we here to talk about then?”

“I don't know,” John said. “Anything but all of this. I don't want to think about any of this anymore.”

Bobby stared at him for a moment before nodding, pulling his hand back across the table as John's new drink arrived. “Okay, if that's what you want. Can I tell you about my classes earlier today? One of the kids told me a joke that I think you'll like.”

John took a sip of his drink, put a smile on his face, and nodded. “I can't wait to hear it.”

By the time that they made their way back to the mansion, John didn't feel like the date had been very successful. He wasn't entirely sure how dates were supposed to go, but he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to go like that.


	17. Chapter 17

.33

“You're not yourself, John.”

John wanted to argue with Jubilee, he really did. He wanted to say that he didn't even know what that was supposed to mean, wanted to say that there was no such thing as normal for him, but he knew that he would just be lying.

Saint John Allerdyce wasn't acting the way he usually did and it had taken someone one month, two weeks, and two days to say something about it. 

“No, I'm not.”

John really didn't want to expand upon that, but this wasn't just a normal conversation, this was a session, and Jubilee would likely kill him if he didn't, so he knew what the next sentence that would come out of her mouth would be before she even said it.

“Let's talk about it.”

John sighed heavily. “I think I fucked things up with Bobby.”

Jubilee's gaze narrowed and John knew Jubilee the therapist was gone and Jubilee the friend was in her place. “Explain yourself.”

“It's nothing that major. We just went on a date and I don't think the date went very well.”

“John, your date was six weeks ago.”

“I know, but some stuff was said and I just...I'm not happy about the way it happened. And I don't think he's very happy with me about it either. But because we don't talk about anything, nothing's being resolved and so I'm not very happy at the moment. I'll get over it.”

Jubilee just shook her head. “This isn't something you should just get over. This is something you need to talk about.”

“Fine,” John said, running his hands over his face. “During the date, the other men that Bobby has had sex with came up and I don't like thinking about that.”

“What the fuck did that come up during your date for?”

“We were talking about how much I love him, how I've always loved him, and then all of the sudden he's asking me if I'm upset that there were others for him, and I don't even know, Jubes. It just sent my mind down a path that I haven't been able to pull it off of since.”

“Which means?”

John took a deep breath. “It means I cannot stop thinking about the fact that there are other men, fuck, for all I know, other women, that Bobby has had sex with. And it's not like I didn't know that already, but now it's just all I can think about when I'm with him. Someone else has kissed him. Someone else has touched him. And then my mind goes down the path that it could have been me all along if I'd just fucking said something to him when we were kids. That just makes me think about everything that happened because of the fact that I didn't. And that just makes me miserable and so I'm like this.”

Jubilee studied him for a moment. “You were happy before this, weren't you?”

John just shrugged. “I had my moments.”

“Let's put the Bobby part of this to the side for a moment,” Jubilee said, and John instantly knew that Jubilee the therapist was back. “Let's talk about you being happy.”

“What's there to talk about?”

“You told me that you never thought you'd ever be happy again.”

“I meant that.”

“But you've experienced happiness.”

John nodded. “It's always fleeting, never lasts for more than a few minutes. But yes, it's happening. Happens at least once a day lately.”

Jubilee smiled. “Tell me what made you happy today then.”

John couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. “One of my students.”

“Expand upon that.”

“Her name is Cressida. She's fourteen. Reminds me a lot of me at that age, really,” John said, shaking his head. “Anyway, she's a super talented writer. And she met with me in my office this morning and I told her that. The smile she gave me just made me happy. It made me realize I'm actually having an effect on these kids' lives.”

“That's good, John. That's really good,” Jubilee said, a smile on her face. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear you say that.”

“No, it's not.”

“It really is,” Jubilee said. “Not all progress is measurable by putting some sort of a scale on it. Sometimes the progress happens when we don't even realize it.”

“Which means?”

“It shows that you're making progress even when you feel like you're not. And I know right now you feel like you're not.”

John sighed heavily. “It's just always going to be like this, isn't it? Moments of happiness interspersed with my general misery. Because the misery is not going to go away, Jubes. I just know that. I'm forever going to hate myself for what I've done.”

“There is nothing that I can say that will make you not hate yourself for what you've done,” Jubilee admitted. “That is not the purpose of our sessions. The purpose of our sessions is to make you process what you've done and realize that it doesn't define you. And I think the moments of happiness are proof that is happening.”

“I'm always going to be a murderer, Jubes.”

“Yes, you are. But you're so much more than that now.”

John just rolled his eyes. “No, I'm not.”

“You're a friend. You're a writer. You're a professor. And you're a loving partner in a committed relationship, whether that relationship is currently going through some problems or not.”

“I'm a writer. Yeah, right.”

“I think your writing is good for you, John.”

John took a deep breath. “I haven't told anyone about the writing but you. I mean, the Professor knows that I'm doing it, he just doesn't know what it is I'm writing.”

“Maybe you should tell Bobby about it,” Jubilee said. “Because I know that he'd agree that it's good for you.”

“I don't see how me writing out my life story via fictional characters could possibly be good for me.”

“Writing out your experiences helps you process them. It makes you think about them from angles that you hadn't considered before. You cannot sit here and tell me that the character that represents you is so one-dimensional that all anyone can say about him is that he's a murderer.”

John sat there for a moment. “No, he's not.”

“So why you want to believe that you're that one-dimensional, I don't know. That right there is proof that you don't see yourself that way, at least not subconsciously.”

John thought about that. “You think the writing is helping me be happy, basically.”

“I'm thinking that it's definitely helping,” Jubilee said. “It's making you realize that there are still dimensions to you that you are refusing to see because you're so focused on past mistakes.”

“I murdered hundreds of people, Jubes. I would hardly call that a mistake.”

“Whatever you want to term it, the fact of the matter is that you believe every single one of those deaths was a mistake. And you have tortured yourself over them from the moment they happened, and you will probably torture yourself over them until the moment you die if you don't focus on the good things in your life. Things that are helping you be happy. Like Bobby.”

“This shouldn't matter to me,” John said softly. “I've always known that he was going to be with other people. I mean, fuck, I watched him with Rogue for long enough. It's not like this is something new. But for some reason, just the thought of him with someone else is driving me absolutely insane.”

“I don't think it's that insane, for the record. If the man I'd been in love with since I was a teenager was with someone else and I knew about it, I wouldn't like to think about it either.” Jubilee paused. “But I think that it's something that needs to be discussed if it's affecting you this much. And I'm not the person to be discussing it with.”

“You just want me to talk to Bobby.”

“I've told you on many occasions that I think the two of you need to have an actual conversation about your relationship,” Jubilee pointed out. “And I know I'm not the only one.”

“I know, I know,” John said, running a hand through his hair. “I just wish he felt the same way.”

“It doesn't matter if he feels the same way or not. What you need to do is tell him that you need to talk and then tell him all of this.” 

“And if he won't listen to me?”

Jubilee took a deep breath. “If he is not willing to have a conversation with you about your relationship, then I think you need to question the relationship. I know that you love him, John, but if all you do is talk about meaningless things and have sex, that's not a healthy relationship.”

“I know you're right,” John said after a moment. “I do. I'm just afraid of losing him.”

“For what it's worth, I don't think you're going to lose him,” Jubilee said, and John could tell Jubilee the friend was back. “Bobby waited a pretty goddamn long time for you too, you know. Not as long, obviously, but awhile. I don't think he's going to let you go that easily. And you shouldn't let him go that easily either. You just need to have a conversation.”

John nodded. “Will you at least let me bring it up in my own time and not yell at me about it until I do it?”

“Yes,” Jubilee said. “If you promise me that you'll actually do it.”

“I promise,” John murmured. “I promise.”

Jubilee gave him a smile. “Now, how about we get back to talking about your students? I want to know what else about them is making you happy.”

John felt a smile cross his face again at the mention of his students. “Alright, I can do that.”

 

 

.34

Seventeen months, two weeks, and five days after the battle at the mansion, Erik Lehnsherr was finally going to stand trial. All of the legal maneuverings that he'd done to try to avoid this had led him nowhere, and everyone in the world was going to hear about all of the things that Magneto had done. And they would know these things because of sworn affidavits serving as testimony from both John and Raven. The government's prosecutors had made that very clear.

So Saint John Allerdyce was going to avoid every piece of news about the trial that he could.

Instead of focusing on that, John was determined to keep himself occupied with other things. He finally came with up with an appropriate subject for the final exams he was going to give his students, he was spending more time than not helping out with Danger Room sessions, and he had more sex with Bobby than he ever had before because that was the only thing that could really keep all of this off his mind.

But he also knew that what he was doing was just prolonging the inevitable. He'd made a promise to Jubilee that he and Bobby were going to talk, so that was just what was going to happen whether John actually wanted it to or not. But every time that John tried to broach the subject, Bobby did a very good job of avoiding it, which only served to make John exasperated.

On the afternoon that the trial began, John was grading papers in his room when Bobby came in. He forced himself to take a deep breath as he set the papers to the side, determined that he wasn't going to let Bobby talk him out of this again. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don't.”

“Bobby, would you please quit fucking avoiding this?” John said before he could think about it. “I want to fucking talk so we need to talk.”

“What is there to talk about?” Bobby asked, collapsing down onto the bed next to him. “We don't have anything that we need to talk about.”

“Yes, we do. Our date.”

“Oh, yeah? I was thinking we should go on another one. Maybe to the movies this time.”

John swallowed hard and continued on. “I don't think our date went very well. And I think you think that too.”

Bobby just shrugged. “It wasn't the worst date I've ever been on.”

“But it wasn't the best either.”

“No,” Bobby said after a moment. “It wasn't. But it's totally fine, Johnny. We have all the time in the world to have a better date.”

John groaned and covered his face with his hands. “This is not about having time to have a better date. This is about the date that we had.”

“I really don't see why this needs to be discussed. It was just a date, Johnny. It didn't change anything.”

“It didn't change anything?” John let out a small laugh. “Because of what you said to me on that date, I cannot stop thinking about you having sex with other people. Them making you laugh if they touch you in the same places I know to. Them bringing that grin to your face as they wrap their hand around your cock. Them making you groan as they thrust into you. And on and on and on.”

“Johnny.”

“Then I start thinking about how it should have been me the entire time, and then I start thinking about why it wasn't, and then I start thinking about what happened because I was too fucking scared to tell you I love you, and then I go down a path of thoughts that I am usually doing a fairly good job of avoiding now. And I hate it. I motherfucking hate it.”

“Johnny,” Bobby said, reaching out and tangling their fingers together. “Why didn't you just say something?”

“What the fuck do you think I've been trying to do for the past few weeks? But, no, you don't want to talk about anything and so it doesn't happen. I've just reached a point where I'm calling time on that bullshit,” John said firmly. “Why, Bobby? Why the fuck did you ask me that?”

“Because it was important.”

“Why was that so important to ask me?”

Bobby sighed heavily. “Because it bothered the fuck out of me every time I watched you go home with someone else. Still bothers me every time I think about it. I guess I just needed to know if you felt the same way.”

“Why did you need to know that?” Bobby stayed silent, but John wasn't having it. “I'm fucking serious, Bobby. Why did you need to know that?”

“You said that me being with others is all you can think about sometimes,” Bobby said. “Well, all that I can think about sometimes is that all of this is my fault.”

“Bobby, we've talked about this,” John started, but Bobby just shook his head.

“Everything is my fault, John. All of it. Even our relationship is my fault because you would have never said a thing to me about it if I hadn't pressed the issue. I can sit here and listen to you tell me you love me all the time but there's still this part of me that needs to know you really do. And I thought that maybe if you were just as bothered that there were others for me as I was that there were others for you that might help put my mind at ease. So, yes, I needed to know that.”

“Did it?”

“Did what?”

“Did it put your mind at ease?”

“Kind of. It's just something that I'm trying to deal with. Do you see now why I don't want to talk about things?” Bobby said quietly. “I'm absolutely terrified of this conversation because I'm afraid that telling you all of this is going to make you leave.”

“Fuck, Bobby.” John shifted around until his head was on Bobby's shoulder. “Why would I want to leave you? I'm terrified of you leaving me.”

“Never,” Bobby murmured. “And I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave me. I'm an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot. And I'm not leaving.”

“No?”

“Bobby, I have waited for forever to have you like this. There's no way I'm giving it up now.”

“You scare me,” Bobby whispered. “This scares me.”

“You think it doesn't scare me?”

“It does?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Really?”

“For fuck's sake, Bobby, I'm not lying to you,” John said, smiling when Bobby squeezed his hand. “I didn't think that I could possibly be any more in love with you than I was but now...now I know that I am. And it's fucking terrifying sometimes.”

“I didn't know I could love someone this much,” Bobby said. “I mean, I knew I loved you, but now I know I'm in love with you, if that makes any sense.”

“You loved someone who wasn't there,” John murmured. “But now I am.”

“Exactly.”

“I loved the kid I went to school with. I love the man you've become even more. And I'm still shocked that I get to have you like this.”

“You are?”

“Bobby, I had convinced myself that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. And then when we started this, I was convinced that it was going to end quickly because there was no way that you could possibly actually want me. The fact that this has lasted this long is astounding to me sometimes. Especially since we never actually talk.”

Bobby turned and brushed a kiss across John's forehead. “I'm sorry. I just don't know how to do this part very well.”

“You think I do?” John laughed. “At least you've been in relationships before. You know way more about how this is supposed to work than I do.”

“I don't know about that.”

“I sure as fuck don't have a clue.”

“Well, we'll both have to work on this talking thing then. Because you're right, we should actually talk about shit every once and awhile.”

“I know I'm right. I also know that Jubes will kill both of us if we don't. She's been so angry that I wouldn't just talk to you about stuff.”

“I think Kitty's been pretty angry with me for the same reason. She told me to quit acting like such a child and to man up already.”

John laughed. “That sounds like Kitty. You should hear some of the stuff Jubes has been saying to me. 'Just because you're men doesn't mean that communication isn't important.' I've been hearing it for months.”

“I'm surprised they haven't tried to just lock us in a room together.”

“Jubes said they were thinking of doing that until they realized that all we'd probably do was have sex.”

Bobby burst out laughing. “Is that really all they think we do?”

John just smiled. “Well, it's the majority of what we do.”

“Good point.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a little while, but John knew there was one more thing he had to say. “Bobby?”

“What, Johnny?”

“Don't ever bring up the fact that there have been others again, okay? It really, really bothers me.”

“I won't,” Bobby murmured. “I promise.”

“And don't think that any of this is your fault,” John said. “Because it's not. And our relationship definitely isn't your fault. If it's anyone's fault, that's on Kitty and Jubes. They're the ones who made us tell each other.”

Bobby laughed. “So we blame them for everything now?”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.”

“I'd rather thank them for pushing us to do it.”

“That sounds like a better idea.” John shifted around until he could kiss Bobby softly. “I love you. And that's never going to change.”

Bobby drew him into another kiss. “I love you too. And that's never going to change either.”

John smiled into the kiss as Bobby started reaching for the bottom of his shirt, but his hands came up to stop Bobby's before they got very far. “Nope.”

“But, Johnny...”

“But Johnny nothing. I have papers to grade and I have a student meeting in about an hour.” Bobby pouted and John darted forward to give him another kiss. “When I'm done with that student meeting, however, I am open to whatever plan it is you currently have.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, okay then.”

John watched with a smile as Bobby get off the bed and he reached for his papers again, taking a deep breath as realization flowed through him.

Saint John Allerdyce was proud of himself.

It had been a long time since that had happened.


	18. Chapter 18

.35

John had been sitting on the log in the clearing for an hour before Bobby came strolling up. He kept his gaze out on the creek in front of him as he felt Bobby sit down next to him, reaching out to tangle their fingers together when Bobby put a hand on his knee. He could see the piece of paper clutched in Bobby's other hand, knew what it was without asking, but he didn't want to be the one who spoke first. 

Saint John Allerdyce had made this invitation in the most romantic way he knew how and he wasn't going to say anything until Bobby Drake said something to him.

They sat in silence for what felt like forever to John, and he was just contemplating breaking his own rule and saying something first when Bobby finally spoke.

“It's beautiful.”

John forced himself to take a deep breath. “What is?”

“Everything,” Bobby said, turning to look at him. “This place, the words you wrote. It's all beautiful.”

John let a smile cross his face as Bobby gave him one and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm glad you liked it.”

“I didn't like it, Johnny. I loved it. No one has ever written me a poem before.”

John felt himself chuckle at that. “Oh, I've written you plenty. This is just the first one I've ever given you.”

Bobby's smiled widened. “You used to write me poems?”

“All the time,” John admitted. “Had to get what I felt for you out of my head somehow.”

“I wonder if we still have them,” Bobby said after a moment. “I'm pretty sure the Professor still has all the stuff you left behind somewhere.”

“You kept that stuff?”

“Everyone always hoped you would come home,” Bobby said, shrugging. “I know that a lot of people gave up on that after awhile, but something tells me that the Professor never completely did. I know I never did.”

“You should have.”

“No, Johnny. We should ask the Professor though, see if he still has it.”

John swallowed hard as Bobby's arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. “I don't know if I want to see any of that stuff if it still exists.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't need reminders of my sixteen-year-old self and the terrible decisions I made.”

“Not every decision you made was a terrible one.”

“You obviously don't remember my last few weeks here then.”

Bobby just laughed. “I would hardly call getting detention from Scott, Jean, and Storm in the same day a terrible decision.”

“Says the person who didn't have to spend three hours in detention every day,” John said. 

“Once we finally started talking about you again, we all had a debate on whether you'd left just so you didn't have to spend that time in detention,” Bobby said, chuckling. “We all knew we were wrong, but it was nice to laugh over you again.”

“I'm sorry,” John murmured.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I'm sorry for leaving,” John started. “I'm sorry for breaking our pact. I'm sorry for ruining our friendship. I'm sorry for hurting you as much as I know I did. I'm sorry for everything.”

“You don't need to apologize for anything,” Bobby said as John put his head on his shoulder.

“Yes, I really do. I've been back here for three years, Bobby, and I haven't apologized to any of you, but especially you.”

Bobby bent down and brushed a kiss across John's temple. “You have apologized to everyone, just with words that aren't the words I'm sorry. And you don't need to apologize to me, Johnny. I forgave you for everything a long, long time ago. Besides, everything has turned out fine. You're home.”

“Easy enough for you to say,” John said. “You're not the one who has to live with this on your conscience.”

“I know,” Bobby said, tightening his grip around John's waist. “But I know that it's getting better every day. And it is only going to continue to get better. You just needed some good memories to balance out all of the bad.”

“Well, I'm certainly getting some of those,” John said. “And a lot of those involve you.”

“Hence the poem.”

“The poem was me trying to find a good way to get you out here.”

“And what is here, exactly? I don't remember ever being here before.”

“That's because you haven't been,” John said, turning to kiss Bobby's neck. “This is where I used to come when I didn't want anyone to find me.”

“I thought that was the swimming pool.”

“No, that was my hideout. This was my happy place.”

“Your happy place.”

“Everyone needs a happy place, Bobby. Even me.”

“So how many times have you been here since you got back?”

John pressed another kiss to Bobby's neck. “Just now. Wanted you to see it.”

“Me seeing it was that important?”

John sat up and looked at Bobby, nodding. “This is where I used to come when memories of my childhood flared up in my mind and I didn't want to talk to anyone. This was my place, my place alone. And no one has touched it since the last time I was here. There's even a couple of lighters still on the ground next to the creek. And I thought if there was ever a place on the grounds that I would consider to be romantic, it was this one. I used to write all kinds of sappy, romantic shit here.”

“And it was about me,” Bobby said after a moment.

“A lot of it was, yeah,” John admitted. “So this place has always made me think of you and I thought it only fair to share it with you.”

“It's quite the walk.”

“Which is why no one ever found it.”

Bobby looked around and smiled. “It really is beautiful, Johnny. And the words you wrote to describe it don't do it justice.”

“The words I wrote?”

“The poem,” Bobby said, looking at him. “That's what this was about, right? The beauty that surrounds you.”

John groaned and put his head back on Bobby's shoulder. “I knew it was too deep.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“The poem is not about this spot, Bobby.”

“Then what is it about?”

John took a deep breath. “It's about you.”

John could feel Bobby's surprise. “Me? No, you wrote it for me but it's not about me.”

“No, it really is,” John said, leaning into him. “You are the most beautiful thing in my life. And my life is starting to have a lot of really beautiful things in it, but you, you are the best.”

Bobby pulled John up and into a kiss. “You really wrote all of that about me?”

John just nodded. “I had to get it across somehow. I'm not the best with words.”

“That's bullshit,” Bobby said. “That poem is the best poem I've ever read. You're amazing with words.”

“Fine, I'm not very good at speaking what I'm feeling then,” John said, leaning his forehead against Bobby's. 

“I think you do just fine.”

“The poem...I could think of no better day than today to tell you that,” John got out. “It's been three years, Bobby. Three years today since I walked back into this place. I was planning on leaving when I first did. I only stayed because you told me that I didn't need to run anymore. And now three years later, we're here like this. I can never put into words what your faith in me means to me. You had faith in me when I didn't even have faith in myself.

“The only person, and I mean the only person, in my entire life that I have been able to just be myself with is you. You are the only person I've ever let see the real me. And you never push me away, you never break my trust, you never hurt me like others did. You just love me. I've never had that before. Ever.”

“Oh, Johnny,” Bobby said, bringing his hands up to wipe away the tears that were running down John's face. “Johnny, it's okay.”

“I just needed you to know how much I love you. Because it's a lot, Bobby. It's more than I can ever say.”

“I know, Johnny,” Bobby murmured, closing the distance between them and kissing John softly. “I know.”

“I don't know what I'd do without you,” John whispered. “I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't ended up my roommate all those years ago. Because I was going to kill myself, Bobby. I was going to do it. But you showed me there was still beauty in life. You and Jubes and Kitty, but mostly you. You've been the thing my world orbits around since we were eleven and I wouldn't want it any other way.”

John kissed Bobby before he could say anything, trying to pour everything that he felt into it. Bobby pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, and John let his eyes close and lost himself in the sensations, still in disbelief that he got to experience this. But he had reached a point where he believed that it was actually happening, that it wasn't some amazing dream he was going to wake up from in the middle of the night back in his apartment in Austin. There had been a part of him for a very long time that told himself that he didn't deserve this, didn't deserve love from anyone let alone Bobby Drake. But things had shifted somewhere along the way.

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and he deserved to be loved, hopefully for the rest of his life by Bobby Drake.

“I have a theory I'd like to test,” John murmured when they pulled apart.

“What theory is this?”

“I want you to freeze the tree above us,” John said, resting his forehead on Bobby's shoulder. “And then I want to slowly melt it with fire.”

“You want to make it rain,” Bobby said after a moment. “While we sit here?”

John nodded. “Thought it might be romantic.”

“Yeah, I think it would,” Bobby said, smiling at John when he sat up. “But before we do that, I want to say something.”

“What?”

“I love you, Johnny. More than I can ever begin to express. I'm nowhere near as good with words as you are, so you'll never be getting a poem from me, but I just hope that you will understand how much I love you anyway.”

“I do,” John murmured. “I promise you I do.”

Bobby leaned forward and kissed him again. “Good. Now shall we make out in the rain?”

John grinned. “Yeah, let's.”

 

 

.36

John looked around at all the students dancing before turning back to Bobby. “I told you, I'm not a dancer.”

“You danced at Piotr and Kitty's wedding,” Bobby pointed out. 

“Only because I was half-drunk and Rogue talked me into it.”

“Well, I can't get you half-drunk now but I would like to talk you into dancing with me.”

John looked over at him and sighed. “Bobby, I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of the children.”

“I think they're quite used to us making fools of ourselves in front of them,” Bobby said, leaning in to kiss him. “And it's not like they don't know what's going on between us.”

“Given that we've never put a label on it, I'm not sure what's going on between us.”

“What happened to never being one for labels?”

John shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe it's time for one.”

Before Bobby could respond, John turned his attention back to the dance floor and noticed Frankie walking towards him. “Frankie!”

“Hello, Professor Allerdyce, Professor Drake,” Frankie said, coming to a stop in front of them before dropping her gaze to the floor. 

“Are you having a good time, Frankie?” Bobby asked, and Frankie shook her head.

“No one wants to dance with me,” Frankie said quietly. “But I want to dance. So I got this idea in my head and I figured I'd try but I think the answer is going to be no.”

“What's the idea, Frankie?” John asked, and Frankie looked up at him with pleading violet eyes.

“Will you dance with me, Professor Allerdyce?”

Fuck.

John watched her for a moment, and the moment her eyes fell back to the ground, he swallowed hard and handed Bobby his drink. “Bobby, will you hold this for me? I am going to go dance with Frankie.”

Frankie's head shot up at his words and Bobby gave him an encouraging smile as he took Frankie by the hand and led her to the dance floor. John knew absolutely nothing about dancing but he knew enough from his dance with Rogue to position his hands accordingly, and then they were swaying to the music. John felt like a fucking idiot for being on the dance floor at a school dance at his age, but the look on Frankie's face made it worth it.

“Thank you for dancing with me, Professor Allerdyce.”

“John,” he said. “My name is John.”

“I know, but it's not appropriate to use that anymore.”

“So long as we're not in class, you can call me John. And you won't get in trouble for it.”

The smile on Frankie's face brightened and John couldn't help the warmth that spread through his chest. He knew he wasn't supposed to have favorite students but he couldn't help it. Frankie was his favorite.

“Thank you for dancing with me, John.”

“Why doesn't anyone want to dance with you?”

“Probably because of the empath thing,” Frankie said, shrugging. “Not a lot of kids like me.”

“That's a shame because you're someone really wonderful to know.”

“You think so?”

“I wouldn't spend time with you if I didn't,” John said seriously. “I don't waste time on things or people that aren't worth it.”

Frankie's smile got even wider. “Really?”

“Yes,” John said, smiling back. “You know what I learned when I was a student? You don't need a lot of friends and it doesn't matter if most of the school doesn't like you. Because I didn't have a lot of friends and I'm sure that most of the school hated me.”

“Then they were stupid,” Frankie said firmly. “You're one of the nicest people I've ever met.”

“I'm not a nice person, Frankie.”

“You're not what you think you are either. Miss Jubilee told me that.”

Of course she had.

“Well, I'm starting to think that she might be right about that. But it's hard for me.”

“I can understand that,” Frankie said, yelping when she stepped on John's foot. “Sorry!”

John ignored the pain in his toes and just smiled at her. “It's fine, Frankie.”

“Sorry, I'm just not very good at dancing because no one will ever dance with me.”

“How many school dances have you been to?”

“This is my fourth.”

“And how many dances have you had?”

Frankie's head went down. “This one.”

John felt his heart break for her. “No one has ever danced with you before?”

Frankie just shook her head. “I told you. No one likes me.”

“They don't know what they're missing then. But how about we make a deal?”

Frankie looked up. “A deal?”

“Every school dance, you come find me and I will dance with you for at least one song.”

Frankie grinned. “Really?”

“It's not nice to be at a school dance and not dance. You deserve to dance.”

“Did you dance at your school dances?”

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “But that was by choice. I couldn't dance with the one I wanted to dance with anyway.”

“Do you mean Professor Drake?”

John couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. “Yes, I mean Professor Drake. Things were very different between us then.”

“Miss Jubilee told me that too.”

“What are you talking to Jubilee about me for, hm?”

Frankie shook her head. “I wasn't. I was talking to her about this boy I like and she was telling me stories from her years as a student to help me figure things out.”

John was going to have to talk to Jubilee about that. But at the moment, he focused in on the rest of what Frankie was saying. “Boy? There's a boy?”

Frankie blushed. “Maybe.”

“What's his name?”

“James.”

“And where is James right now?”

“He's over by the table with the punch,” Frankie mumbled.

“By himself?”

Frankie nodded. “He doesn't have a lot of friends either. He's pretty new.”

“Then go ask him to dance.”

Frankie stopped moving and looked up at him. “What?”

“I'm serious, go ask him to dance,” John said, smiling at her when he saw the fear on her face. “Frankie, talking to him is better than not talking to him. Take it from someone who made a lot of bad decisions because he didn't talk to someone.”

Frankie stood there for a moment before nodding. “Okay, I'll go ask him.”

“Good. And if the answer is no, come find me and we'll dance again.”

Frankie smiled at that. “I'm nervous.”

“Don't be nervous, okay?” John said. “Deep breath for courage.”

Frankie took a deep breath and let it out. “I'll come find you later.”

John just nodded. “You'll be fine.”

He stood there and watched as she walked towards the boy near the table, and he nearly jumped when he felt a cool hand slip into his own. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Bobby said, smiling. “You got her to go talk to James.”

“You know about that?” John asked, turning to look at him.

“Jubes was telling me. She had thought at first that Frankie's crush was on you.”

“Oh God I hope not,” John said, turning back to watch her.

“No, she assured Jubes that it wasn't you, it was James,” Bobby said, smiling when he saw James take Frankie by the hand and lead her onto the dance floor. “Aw, he must have said yes.”

John couldn't help the smile that was on his face. “She's a good kid. She deserves to dance.”

“So do you,” Bobby said, walking around until he was standing in front of John. “I've got you on the dance floor now. Don't tell me I'm going to have to leave without one dance.”

John stared at Bobby for a moment before glancing around. Scott and Jean were dancing on one end of the dance floor; Piotr and Kitty were dancing on the other. Jubilee was dancing with one of the seniors over by the DJ table; Storm was dancing with Hank near them. He sighed heavily as he took all of that in, realizing that there was absolutely no way he was going to get out of this one. “One dance. That's it.”

Bobby just grinned at him. “One dance is fine.”

John let Bobby position their hands, groaning as the song switched to a slow one. Bobby just pulled him closer as they started to sway to the music. John took a deep breath as he realized that this was the closest the children had ever seen them before and he wondered when exactly he'd gotten over his fear of public displays of affection. 

Saint John Allerdyce was never really one for showing off, no matter how much he actually did it as a defense mechanism.

“I've always wanted to dance with you,” was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “It's why I never danced at these things when I was a kid. The only one I ever wanted to dance with was you.” 

Bobby gave him a soft smile. “Really?”

John nodded. “I didn't even want to dance with Kitty or Jubes.”

“And yet you were so reluctant to dance with me tonight,” Bobby pointed out.

“I told you, I'm not a dancer,” John said seriously. “Though I suppose that might just be because I never really have before.”

“Could have fooled me with that show you put on with Rogue at the wedding.”

John laughed. “That was all Rogue. I just went with it.”

Bobby laughed as well. “That should surprise me more than it does, really.”

John glanced around the room before sighing. “I promise you another dance. But we need to stop this one now.”

Bobby frowned at him. “Why?”

“Because a few of the seniors just spiked the punch,” John said. “And I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who noticed.”

Bobby sighed and stepped back. “You get the punch, I'll get the students? Then we'll meet back here on the dance floor.”

“Deal.”


	19. Chapter 19

.37

John opened his eyes and let the last tendrils of sleep drift away. Before he could even move, the significance of the day came to mind and, for the first time in ten years, he let a smile cross his face. It had been a long time since the thought of this day brought a smile to his face.

Saint John Allerdyce was officially another year older and for once he actually cared about that fact.

He felt Bobby's arm wrap around his waist and he settled back into his embrace, his smile widening when he felt the kiss ghosted along his neck. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Bobby murmured against his skin. “Happy birthday.”

John closed his eyes and concentrated on the coolness of Bobby surrounding him. “Thank you.”

“I know you don't like celebrating it, but I had to say it anyway.”

“It's fine,” John said. “And I don't think that I don't want to celebrate it.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I'm twenty-six-years-old and the last time I felt like celebrating this day was when I was sixteen. And there were times in my life where the thought of living till I was twenty-six was the most torturous thing I could think of. But now, now I'm glad I'm still here. I'm glad you're here with me. And maybe that's enough reason to celebrate it.”

John could feel Bobby smiling against him. “Good.”

“You think?”

“I think it's amazing,” Bobby said. “Means I can actually give you my present this year.”

John shifted around so he could look at him. “Present?”

“I've gotten you a present every year since you came back,” Bobby said simply. “But you were so adamant about not celebrating it that I never gave it to you, at least not like that. I've given you all of them eventually. But this year I can actually give it to you and fulfill its original purpose.”

“I can't believe you got me a present,” John said after a moment. “I definitely don't deserve one.”

“It's your birthday, Johnny. Of course you do.”

“I haven't been getting you presents for your birthday.”

“No, but you haven't been very willing to leave the house either,” Bobby pointed out. “But we're not talking about my birthday. We're talking about your birthday. Wait here.”

John watched as Bobby got out of bed and pulled on some pants before leaving the room, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows and wondered what on earth Bobby had left for. But then Bobby came back into the room a few moments later with a gift-wrapped box in his hands, and John just shook his head. “What, you kept that in your old room?”

“Technically, it still is my room,” Bobby pointed out. “But I had to keep you from seeing it, so yes, I did.”

Bobby climbed back onto the bed and handed the present to John, who turned it over a few times trying to figure out what it could be. Whatever it was, it obviously meant something to Bobby for him to have it, and John wasn't sure what that could possibly mean. 

Bobby noticed his hesitation and reached out to put a hand on John's. “Just open it, Johnny. It's fine.”

John slid his finger underneath one of the paper's corners, carefully unwrapping the box the same way he'd carefully unwrapped every other present he'd ever gotten. He smiled when the wooden box came into view, running his fingers over its smooth surface, and it took him a moment, but he eventually realized what it was. Opening it up, they were all still inside, all of the favorite things he'd had to leave behind when he left the mansion. 

A couple of the cheap lighters that he'd hidden all over the mansion. The ridiculously hideous plastic ring that Jubilee had given him when they were twelve because she thought he'd find it funny. An elephant pen that Kitty had given him when she came back to the school after summer break when they were thirteen, one that she'd bought in a zoo's gift shop and thought he'd love. A deck of cards and some chips that Piotr had given him from one of their first poker games. A drawing from Rogue that she'd done for his birthday. A letter Bobby had written him one day when he was very low that had just made his entire world better. And at the very bottom of the box was one thing that he'd thought he'd never see again. 

The journal Saint John Allerdyce had kept as a teenager. The one he'd written all his feelings about Bobby Drake into. 

He couldn't help from laughing just at seeing it.

“You like?” Bobby asked quietly, and John turned to him with a smile on his face. 

“Where did you get this?”

“I asked the Professor if we still had your stuff and he helped me get it out of storage,” Bobby said, smiling back. “I know you said you didn't want to see any of it again, but I knew how special that box was to you so I thought maybe you might like it back.”

“This...” John trailed off and forced himself to take a deep breath. “Thank you. This means a lot.”

“I thought it might,” Bobby said, watching as John took the box and set it on the bedside table.

John pulled Bobby to him and kissed him deeply. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bobby murmured, drawing John into another kiss. “I'm so glad that you want to celebrate your birthday. We've all been waiting for this day.”

“Because there's a celebration planned,” John finished. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“No,” Bobby said. “I was just going to give the signal to cancel it like I've done every other year.”

John groaned and put his head on Bobby's shoulder. “Seriously?”

“None of us were ever going to give up hope that you might reach this point someday,” Bobby said, resting his head against John's. “And so we just turned it into something that could be easily not done if you didn't want it to happen. The children still get their part of it though. We just never explained to them why they were having it.”

“The children?”

“Don't you remember randomly coming down to the cafeteria for lunch or dinner and suddenly there's cake?”

“Of course I do. Someone's birthday. We loved those days.”

“Well, we always got cake for the staff's birthdays too,” Bobby said. “And ever since you came back here, the children have gotten cake for your birthday too.”

John swallowed hard. “They have?”

“Of course they have,” Bobby murmured. “You've been a part of the team again since the moment you walked back through these doors, Johnny. You're only just starting to realize it.”

“I'm not a member of the team. Quit saying that.”

“We all understand that there will never be a day when you're suiting up and heading out with us on the jet. But you do so much here to help us, whether it's talking strategy or running through simulations with us in the Danger Room, that you're part of the team whether you want to be or not. And don't you dare try telling me that you don't deserve that.”

“It's the truth.”

“The truth is that we all are so very thankful for all of the contributions you make to help ensure that we are fully prepared when we go out on a mission. And that is something that makes you an integral part of the team.”

John sighed heavily. “Fine. I'm not in the mood to argue.”

“Good, because I would be winning that argument,” Bobby said, smiling. “So how does it feel?”

“How does what feel?”

“Being twenty-six,” Bobby asked. “How does it feel?”

“Old.”

“Don't let some of the others hear you say that.”

“Oh, I won't,” John laughed. “I'm serious though. This age seemed unattainable to me for so long when I was a kid. I just didn't see a point to living this long.”

“And now?”

“Now I see all the beautiful things in life that everyone showed me when I was a kid are things that only grow better with time. My life sucks, Bobby. It's always going to suck because of what I've done, but all of the beautiful things that surround me show me that life isn't really that way. Life, had I not made the decisions I made, probably would have been pretty great.”

“Your life is pretty great,” Bobby pointed out.

“I know it is,” John said. “It's ten billion times better than it ever would have been if I'd stayed in Austin. But it's always going to suck too. What I did is always going to be on the back of my mind, ready to flare up and ruin my day at a moment's notice. And while I am having increasing moments of happiness, I still live in a pretty general state of misery. And that's not going to change.”

“I think it might,” Bobby said. “I think you just have to give it a chance to. Because I know that you didn't think your life would ever end up like this. You thought you just were going to exist in that seriously depressed state you arrived here in.”

“Good point,” John mumbled, sitting up and looking at the clock. “Today's a Saturday, right?”

“Yep.”

“Any student meetings scheduled?”

“Nope.”

“Think anyone would mind if we missed breakfast?”

Bobby laughed when John turned to him with a wicked grin on his face. “And why would we do that?”

“It's my birthday,” John said, pushing Bobby down to the bed and climbing on top of him. “Certainly that's something worth celebrating.”

“I could not agree more,” Bobby said, pulling John into a passionate kiss. “I'm just so glad you feel that way.”

John yelped as Bobby rolled them over unexpectedly, laughing when he saw the look on Bobby's face. “I really am serious when I say you're going to kill me with these blowjobs someday, you know.”

Bobby bent down and kissed him hard. “And as I continue to tell you, I like you too much to actually do that.”

“I know, I know,” John said, laughing when Bobby's lips started trailing kisses down his neck. “I just had to say it.”

“Are you going to keep talking?” Bobby murmured against his skin as he reached for John's underwear. “Or am I going to have to shut you up?”

John shuddered against him as Bobby's hand slipped inside his briefs. “I always do like it when you shut me up.”

Bobby gave him a wicked look. “As you wish, birthday boy.”

Saint John Allerdyce had never had a better birthday.

 

 

.38

“I have a question,” Bobby said, forty-one months, three weeks, and five days after John returned to the mansion. 

John looked over at him. “We've both got student meetings in about six hours. I need sleep. Can it wait?”

Bobby pulled John into his arms and let his head rest on John's shoulder. “I'm being serious.”

John could immediately tell that this was something important, so he wrapped his arms around Bobby's waist and held him as close as he could. “Whatever it is, Bobby, it's alright.”

Bobby swallowed hard and pressed a kiss to John's shoulder. “It's been seven months since you said we should put a label on this.”

“I've told you that we don't actually have to do that.”

“I know, but...” Bobby took a deep breath. “I want to. I want to put a label on this.”

John started gently massaging Bobby's lower back. “Okay, then we'll put a label on it. I don't know what kind of a label, but we'll figure out one to put on it.”

“I have a label in mind,” Bobby said quietly. “But the thought of it kind of terrifies me at the same time.”

“Okay,” John said warily. “That's probably not a good label for us then.”

“No, I think it's a perfect label for us. Just let me talk for awhile, okay?” John nodded and he felt Bobby take in an shuddering breath. “I started to do this thing every time I go to the mall, whether it's as a chaperone or with Jubes or just by myself. And I didn't realize why I was doing it at first, and then I realized why I was doing it, and then I spent a long time terrified over it. But I think that it's something we need to discuss.”

“Then tell me about it,” John murmured.

“Do you know that I don't remember my life without you in it?” Bobby eventually said. “Because I remember a few moments here, a few moments there, but it's like my life really began once I met you. And the years that I spent away from you were the hardest years of my life. I never want to spend another moment without you again. I never want there to be a time when you think you need to leave again.”

“Bobby,” John started, but Bobby just kept talking.

“These past three years have been amazing, John. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before. I never knew I could ever feel like this. And there was always this part of me that thought that it wasn't the same way for you. That yeah, it was love, but it wasn't like this. And then that day you wrote me that poem and we sat in that spot in the woods for awhile, I realized that you do. You do feel like this. I love you and you love me and this is real. And so these thoughts have been running through my head ever since, and I just decided tonight to finally do something about them.”

John gave Bobby a confused look when Bobby pulled back. “What are you talking about?”

“Rings,” Bobby said quickly. “I spend my time at the mall looking at rings, Johnny.”

John blinked a couple of times. “Rings?”

“I have spent hours looking at them. Wondering which one you might like or what type of metal would look best against your skin. And I didn't realize why I was doing it for the longest time, but now I know. It's because I want you to wear one. And I want to wear one too.”

John swallowed hard as what Bobby was saying finally sank in. “Are you saying you want us to get married?”

“Kind of,” Bobby said, smiling. 

“Bobby, I...”

“Never want to get married, I know. I heard it ten thousand times when we were kids,” Bobby said, still smiling. “So I'm not saying we have to have any sort of ceremony or some piece of paper down at city hall that says we are. I just want to know that you are staying here with me forever, and I want you to know that I'm going to do the same with you, and I want us to wear rings that signify that. I want to consider us married.”

John took a deep breath as Bobby's words washed over him. “Really?”

Bobby just nodded. 

“I...” John paused for a moment, trying to keep some control of his emotions. “I can't believe that you're saying this. I don't know what to say.”

“It's a crazy idea, I know it is,” Bobby said quickly. “I just had to bring it up. We don't have to do it.”

“It's not crazy,” John said, pulling Bobby to him and kissing him hard. “It's definitely not crazy.”

“Really?” Bobby asked, and John pulled him into another kiss.

“God I love you,” John murmured against his lips. “I love you so, so much. I just never thought you'd ever say something like this.”

Bobby brought his hands up to tangle in John's hair. “So you're not opposed to the idea?”

“I'm far from opposed to the idea. I think it's a great one.” John's arms tightened around Bobby's waist when he felt him stumble a little. “Did you think I'd say no?”

“I didn't know what you'd say, to be honest,” Bobby said, bringing their lips together. “I mean, I know you feel the same way about me as I do about you, but I had no idea if you'd go for this or not. I mean, you were so adamant when we were kids that you never wanted to get married.”

John smiled. “Do you know why I used to say I never wanted to get married?”

“Why?”

“Because I couldn't marry you,” John said simply. “Not because of any aversion to having a life-long relationship like this.”

Bobby grinned at him. “Really?”

“Really,” John said, leaning in and kissing him again. “I've always wanted this with you, Bobby. I will always want it with you. And if you want to wear rings, then we'll wear rings.”

“I'd like that,” Bobby said softly. “I'd really, really like that.”

“Then I guess we're going into town and picking out some rings.”

Bobby pulled him close. “So we're married then?”

John nodded. “As far as I'm concerned we are.”

Bobby grinned at him and John walked them slowly towards the bed, pushed Bobby down onto it, and climbed on top of him. He brought their lips together and tried to show Bobby everything he was feeling, because there was no way he'd ever be able to voice it. And once they started, they couldn't stop, hands gliding over sweatslick skin, tongues tangling together lazily, coaxing each other into complete and utter exhaustion.

Before he drifted off to sleep, John reached for his phone and sent Jubilee a quick text asking her to please put notes on the doors to his and Bobby's offices informing the students that the scheduled meetings would need to take place on the weekend instead. He had almost placed the phone back on the bedside table when he felt it start to vibrate, and he glanced at it to see that Jubilee was calling him. Shaking his head, he quickly answered it.

“Jubes,” he said quietly as Bobby started snoring behind him. “Why are you calling me? Why aren't you asleep?”

“Please tell me this means Bobby talked to you,” Jubilee said seriously. “Because he told me he was going to do it tonight and I will kill him if he didn't.”

“You knew he needed to talk to me?”

“Of course! He needed some courage and, since I am your confidante, he wanted to know what I thought you'd say. Now, please tell me he talked to you?”

“Yes, he talked to me.”

“And?”

John couldn't keep the smile off his face. “And I'm a married man, Jubes.”

John laughed at the cheer Jubilee let out. “I think you're going to wake the whole floor up.”

“No, I'm not, and even if I did, they'd all be thrilled to learn why,” Jubilee said, and John could hear her smile. “Oh, Johnny boy, I'm so happy for you two.”

John shifted around so he could look at Bobby. “I can't believe this actually happened. I never thought he would ever so much as look at me like I wanted him to and now this.”

“I told you for years that you should have told him how you felt,” Jubilee pointed out. “You could have had this a lot sooner if you had.”

“Maybe, but I think maybe that neither of us would have been ready for this back then. I'm just going to enjoy the fact that I have it now.”

“You do that, Johnny boy,” Jubilee said. “I'll put the notes on the office doors and on your classroom doors. I'll keep everyone else from bothering you too. You two just spend tomorrow together, okay?”

“Jubes, we have to go to work,” John pointed out. “We can't just cancel our classes.”

“Yes, you can,” Jubilee said seriously. “And once it is explained to the Professor, he will completely understand. Besides, I know Bobby told him he was planning on talking to you about this.”

John just shook his head. “Does everyone know?”

“Yes,” Jubilee said simply. “And they're all thrilled for you.”

John went to argue but a yawn came out instead. “Thank you for the notes, Jubes. And for everything else too.”

“No problem, Johnny boy. Now get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Jubes.”

John hung up the phone and set it on the bedside table before rolling closer to Bobby and slinging an arm across his waist. He still had a smile on his face when he closed his eyes. 

Saint John Allerdyce was married to Bobby Drake and nothing in the history of the world had ever sounded better.


	20. Chapter 20

.39

John swallowed hard and positioned the chair in front of the mirror, running his hands through his wet hair. It was time, he knew it was time, but the thought of doing what he was about to do made him pause. He'd gotten so used to it that he debated keeping things the same, but he'd made the decision earlier that day and he was going to stick to it. He sat down in the chair and took a deep breath.

Jubilee walked up behind the chair a moment later. “How short do you want it?”

“Not that short,” John said after a moment. “I never want it to be as short as it was with the Brotherhood again.”

“I wouldn't do that to you and you know it,” Jubilee said. “Maybe about the same length as it was when we were teenagers?”

“A little longer than that, I think,” John said, taking a deep breath. “But definitely shorter than it is now.”

“Alright, Johnny boy,” Jubilee said, walking over to the dresser and picking up a pair of scissors and a comb. “You're sure about this?”

John nodded. “It's time.”

“Okay,” Jubilee said, running her fingers through his hair. “I will begin then.”

John swallowed hard when he heard the first snip, old feelings of the need to hide rushing through him. But he forced them back down and centered himself in the moment, taking a deep breath to remain in control. 

Saint John Allerdyce was not going to let the past consume him, not today.

“I think this is a good thing,” Jubilee said after a few moments.

“You do?”

“Yes. I would have given you a haircut two years ago if you were ready. You haven't needed your undercover look for a long time.”

“I would hardly say that I was undercover,” John said, taking a deep breath as he heard another snip. “But you're right. I don't need it anymore.”

“So are you going to shave too?”

“Hadn't thought about it,” John said, taking in his appearance. “Maybe I should.”

“I think that would be another step to being free,” Jubilee said, using the comb to straighten out what she'd already cut.

“Being free?”

“From your past,” Jubilee said as though it was obvious. “You've moved on from all of that, Johnny. You're in a great place now compared to where you were when you first got back here. I mean, you've got a good job, you have good friends, and you're a married man. That's a complete one-eighty to what your life was like when you got back here.”

John grinned at the mention of him being married, twisting the ring that resided on his finger around. “It's definitely not what I was expecting to have happen, that's for sure.”

“What did you think was going to happen?”

“Honestly? I thought I'd stay here long enough so that everyone thought that I'd given it a chance, slip out in the middle of the night, and start over somewhere new. I knew that you'd all be able to track me down again, but I hoped that you all would just let me live in peace. But I told Bobby I wouldn't run and now all of this has happened.”

“If you had run again, I would have come beat down the door of wherever you settled and hauled you back here myself,” Jubilee said seriously. “You've come such a long way, Johnny. I've been so proud of all the progress you've made. And I know that things are never going to be okay again, but I know they've reached a point where they are much easier.”

“They really are,” John said, taking another deep breath as he heard another snip. “Things are still difficult to deal with though.”

“They probably will be for a very long time, if not forever,” Jubilee said, running the comb through his hair. “But I have complete faith in you being able to overcome them every time those thoughts come up to the surface.”

“I never used to think that would ever be possible. But thanks to all the talking you have made me do, I think it really is.”

“It's not just me you've been talking to, Johnny boy.”

“I know. But you know more of it than anyone. Even Bobby.”

“You don't think that you should tell him?”

John shrugged. “Maybe one day. But there's a lot of that stuff that I don't think I can ever say again.”

“I can understand that,” Jubilee said after a moment. “But I think you should at least seriously consider telling him everything, especially now that you're married. Nothing you say will make him leave.”

John grinned again at the mention of being married. “I still can't believe this is happening, Jubes. I am married to Bobby Drake. How the fuck did that happen?”

Jubilee laughed. “You finally talked to him, just like I told you to do when we were fourteen. As I have always said, talking helps.”

John took a deep breath as Jubilee stepped in front of him and combed hair down over his eyes. “I meant what I said about not too short.”

“I'm not doing that to you. Calm down. But the front has to be shorter, Johnny boy.”

“I remember you giving me haircuts when we were kids,” John said, laughing. “Took you a bit to get it right.”

Jubilee laughed as well. “I remember using a ruler to make sure I got it straight.”

“And even then sometimes you didn't get it straight. I remember Storm taking me into town to fix what you did to my hair on more than one occasion.”

Jubilee just rolled her eyes. “I got much better at it by the time we were thirteen.”

“Yes, you did,” John agreed. “That's why I went to you with this. I didn't want to do it in town. Too much chance that someone would recognize me.”

“Johnny boy, there's a much higher chance of people recognizing you now with the haircut. You do realize that, right?”

“I do, yes. But I also know that because of the trial, my part in it has been officially announced and I don't feel like I'm going to be arrested the moment I walk out the door anymore.”

Jubilee ran the comb through his hair before snipping some more. “You never talk about the trial.”

“What's there to talk about? He's locked up for the rest of his life. That's all I care about.”

“Johnny boy.”

John sighed heavily. “There is a large part of me that continues to believe that he'll get out someday and he'll come after me again, okay? And I'm trying very hard to realize that part of me isn't rational, but fuck, he got out of prison before, Jubes. I cannot be one hundred percent sure that he won't this time.”

“John, you know we'd never let that happen, right?”

“I do,” John said, taking a deep breath. “But knowing something and fearing something are two entirely different things.”

Jubilee grinned. “So you do actually listen to what I say sometimes.”

“I listen to what you say a lot more than you think I do,” John said, getting a look at himself in the mirror when Jubilee stepped back. “It looks good.”

“It looks great,” Jubilee countered back. “But it will look better if you shave.”

John reached up and ran his fingers over his beard before nodding. “You're right. It would.”

“Go shave now,” Jubilee said. “I'll clean all the hair up.”

John stared at her for a moment before standing up. “As you wish.”

“Oh come on! Bobby will love seeing you like that again!”

John laughed on his way into the en suite. “You're probably right about that, Jubes.”

“I know I am!”

John stood in front of the mirror once he was inside, reaching up to run his fingers through his considerably shorter hair. It took a moment for the fear coursing through him to subside, and then he reached for Bobby's razor and shaving cream. Five minutes later, he was staring at his clean-shaven reflection for the first time in nine years, and he couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. 

He looked like himself again.

He walked out of the en suite a few minutes later and Jubilee shrieked in delight, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him. “Oh, Johnny boy, it's so good to have you back.”

John couldn't help the laughter that escaped him. “It's good to be back, Jubes. It really is.”

Saint John Allerdyce was finally Saint John Allerdyce again and he wouldn't have it any other way.

 

 

.40

“Professor Allerdyce?”

John looked up from the essay he was grading to see Frankie in the doorway of his office. “Frankie. Come on in.”

Frankie walked into the room and sat down in front of the desk. “I had a question I wanted to ask you.”

“Of course,” John said, drumming his fingers on the desk. “What can I help you with?”

“It's not about our homework,” Frankie said quietly. “It's about you.”

John paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded. He'd known the time would come when Frankie would want to ask him about what it was he'd done, and though he'd tried his best to prepare for it, he knew he had absolutely no idea how to answer the questions that were about to come out of her mouth. “Alright. What is it?”

“There's a rumor going around and I was just wondering if it was true.”

John took another deep breath. “What rumor is this?”

Frankie was quiet for a moment and then she ducked her gaze down to the floor. “That you're leaving.”

Well, that certainly wasn't what he was expecting.

“That I'm leaving?”

“Some of the older kids have been saying that you're going to leave,” Frankie said quietly. “That you never stay in the same place for too long and that it's been about four years and that you're going to leave.”

“It has been four years,” John said after a moment. “Four years exactly. Today's the anniversary.”

“Oh,” Frankie mumbled.

“But I'm not going anywhere, Frankie. I belong here.”

And it wasn't until he said it that he realized it was the truth. 

Saint John Allerdyce belonged at the mansion and he always had.

Frankie's head shot up. “So you're not leaving?”

“No, I'm not,” John said, smiling at her. “I have no desire to leave this place ever again.”

Frankie smiled. “Really?”

“I would be leaving my family behind if I did,” John said seriously. “I've already done that once. I don't want to do that again.”

And he hadn't realized that before either. 

Saint John Allerdyce had a family at the mansion and he always had.

“Do you ever regret it?” Frankie asked after a moment.

“Regret what?”

“Leaving the first time.”

John gave her a smile. “Every single day.”

Frankie stood up when the bell rang, sighing. “I'm going to be late for class. Professor Munroe's not going to be happy. But it's worth it. I just had to know.”

John reached for a notepad and quickly wrote out a note to Storm saying he'd kept Frankie too long in his office and to excuse her tardiness. “Here,” he said, tearing the page off. “Give Storm this. It'll keep you out of trouble.”

“You don't have to do that, Professor Allerdyce.”

“Yes, I do,” John said, smiling at her as she took the note. “Thank you, Frankie.”

“For what?”

“For making me realize a few things. I really appreciate it.”

Frankie gave him a confused look but eventually nodded. “Whatever you say, Professor Allerdyce.”

“Get to class now. And come find me on Saturday. I want to see how your control is.”

Frankie gave him a huge smile. “I will do that. See you later!”

John watched as she walked out of the office before leaning back in his chair and running his hands over his face, thinking about the past four years. They could have left him there in Austin, living an absolutely miserable existence and just trying to survive with the ache in his chest and the horrible memories that plagued his every thought. But they hadn't. They'd given him enough time to distance himself from who he had been and then welcomed him home. They didn't have to do that, shouldn't have done it. He'd severed those bonds when he was sixteen and they shouldn't have been able to be repaired. But everyone had given him a second chance, one that he still knew he didn't deserve. 

Saint John Allerdyce may have a gift with words but he was incapable of putting how much that meant to him into any sort of coherent thought.

He turned his attention back to the essays on his desk but he couldn't stop the thoughts from coming. The way that Charles was the father he'd always wanted. The way that Storm had taken a place in his life that he was pretty sure his mother would have filled. The way that Jean had always made sure that John was doing the absolute best he could be and done everything she could to help when he hadn't been. The way that Scott took him under his wing and showed him everything John knew about how to be a good man. The way that Hank had always encouraged his writing and brought him more books than John had ever known existed. The way that Kitty had shown him he could be loved. The way that Jubilee had shown him he could be a friend. The way that Piotr had shown him that just being himself was the best thing to do. 

And Bobby...well, there were far too many things about Bobby to list off. But the one thing Bobby had done above all else was show John that he was capable of loving someone. He hadn't thought that possible until he'd met Bobby Drake. John was twisting the ring on his finger before he even realized it, a smile crossing his face just at the thought of the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with. 

Saint John Allerdyce knew what he deserved and it still wasn't Bobby Drake.

He glanced at the clock when he heard the bell ring again, noticing an hour had gone by and heading towards the private kitchen. He gave some students a smile as he walked past, heard a few call out greetings as they saw him. He wasn't sure when it was he'd actually started to enjoy being a professor, when he'd actually started to enjoy being responsible for children's education, but he had. 

Saint John Allerdyce was truly Professor Allerdyce now and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Everyone else was already in the kitchen by the time he arrived and he sat down in his customary place next to Bobby, saying a quiet thank you to him for the plate that was ready and waiting. He glanced down at it and saw his favorite meal, just like how Bobby had brought him his favorite meal on that first day back at the mansion, and John swallowed hard. He did not want to get emotional again, not like he had that first day, but he also knew that he probably would. 

He picked up his fork and began to eat, listening to the stories being told. He answered Storm's question when she asked why Frankie had been late, smiled at Kitty when she mentioned she had to take away three stories from students in her first two classes, laughed when Scott mentioned he'd had to do the same to a couple of students in his third class. Piotr and Jean asked him if he'd do a Danger Room session with some students that afternoon, Hank started to talk about a new book he thought John would be interested in, Jubilee told him his hair was getting long again so she was going to cut it that weekend, and Charles studied him across the table as though he knew what John was thinking. 

And if Charles knew what he was thinking, then he might as well just say it.

“It's been four years today,” John started, and all the conversation at the table stopped. “And I've realized some things.”

Bobby's hand came up to tangle with John's on the table and he gave him a reassuring smile. “What, Johnny?”

“I realized that I'm home,” John said, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “I belong here. I have a family here. And though I still think that none of you should have given me another chance, I am so, so glad that you did. I don't know what my life would look like right now if you hadn't. I might not even be alive.”

Bobby squeezed his hand tightly and John let a smile cross his face. “I just wanted to say thank you for being so patient with me. I know I was not an easy person to live with for awhile and I probably will have a lot of days when I still won't be. Because things are not okay. They're never going to be okay again. But they're so much better than they were. I would even go so far as to say I'm happy a lot of the time and that is something that I never thought I would ever be able to say again. And that is down to all of you. So thank you.”

Everyone sat in silence for a moment before Jubilee got up and walked over to John, pulling him up out of his chair and into a big hug. “Oh, Johnny boy, you have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Kitty said, standing up and coming to hug him as well. “We love you, Johnny. I'm so glad you finally know you're home.”

Before John could say anything else, everyone but Charles got up to give him a hug, and by the time all the hugs were done, John was blinking furiously to keep himself from crying. “I meant every word of what I said.”

“We know you did,” Charles said, smiling at him. “And I agree with everyone else. It is so good to know that you finally feel at home.”

The bell rang before anything else was said and everyone looked over at the clock, surprised by the time. Storm was the first to leave the kitchen, stopping to press a kiss to John's cheek as she went by. Everyone else slowly filed out of the room a few moments later, leaving John and Bobby standing there. Bobby pulled John close to him and kissed him deeply. John kissed back as good as he got and Bobby's hands came up to tangle in his hair. 

“I love you,” Bobby murmured against his lips. “And I would really love to go show you how much, but I have a bunch of classes left to teach.”

“So do I,” John said, glancing up at the clock. “My students are probably wondering where I am.”

“Mine too,” Bobby said, kissing him again. “But tonight I'm going to show you how proud I am of you.”

“You're proud of me?”

“I know that was not an easy realization to come to,” Bobby said seriously. “I know how much you struggled with that. So, yes, I'm proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself.”

John nodded as Bobby kissed him again and then he reluctantly pushed Bobby away. “Classes.”

“Right,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “See you at dinner.”

John watched as Bobby walked out of the room and then followed soon after, making his way to his classroom. The students looked up when he walked in and after saying a quick apology for being late, he stood behind his desk and gave them a completely different assignment than he had planned to. 

“Today I want you to write a little more than two pages on why you feel at home here. Pay attention to the structure because that is still what I'm grading on, but I really would love to know why you all think this place is home.”

John sat down at his desk as the students got out notebooks and pens and he smiled at Frankie when he made eye contact with her across the room. But no matter how much he wanted to concentrate on the papers in front of him, he couldn't get one thought out of his mind.

Saint John Allerdyce was finally home and he never thought he'd be able to say that.


End file.
